Brothers
by aworldoflis
Summary: When Burt doesn't wake up from coma after his heart attack, Child Welfare Agency decides to place Kurt in a foster family. Kurt is not amused, but fortunately, he is not alone. His new foster brother seems to come with his own set of problems, though.
1. I'm new here

**_Author's note_: As if we needed another Klaine fic... ;). So this is to get me (and hopefully you) through the summer hiatus. I have zero knowledge about Broadway, fashion, or skin care, so I can only hope I'll do Kurt justice... .  
>The story branches off from canon during Grilled Cheesus, but will in part run along the canon story lines, so you should be familiar with the series, because I do refer to happenings there that I don't describe here explicitly. I have no fixed idea of where I want to take this, so we'll see how it goes. A more extended (spoiler-containing) note is added to the end of the chapter.<br>**

**_Disclaimer_: All characters and places in this story which are part of Glee belong to their respective owners, as do the songs featured. Since I don't make money with this story, I call upon Fair Use to bring them into my own little verse.**

* * *

><p>"Kurt?"<p>

The boy sitting at the bedside turned his head towards the door. He looked tired, the dark rings under his eyes appearing even darker against his fair skin. Will Schuester was standing in the doorway looking slightly worried, but he nevertheless smiled encouragingly.

"Kurt, there are some people here who want to talk to you. Could you come for a minute?"

Kurt nodded quietly before turning his attention back to the figure on the hospital bed. The tall man seemed to be sleeping peacefully, but the many tubes going in and out of his body told a different story. It had been 10 days since Burt Hummel had had a heart attack, and he was yet to wake up from his coma. Gently, the boy pressed a kiss on his dad's forehead before turning to the door and walking out slowly. Everything in his posture screamed fatigue, and exhaustion, and something else which was harder to describe, something that was noticed by its absence rather than its presence - there seemed to be only little hope left in him. The man in the doorway put his hand on the boy's shoulder as he passed, and received a small but grateful smile in return for his gesture.

Out in the hall, two women stood waiting, and the older one held out her hand to greet him.

"Kurt Hummel? My name is Grace Mayfayer, this is my colleague Julia Cleever, and we work with the Child Welfare Agency. We would like to talk to you quietly, if that is possible?"

Kurt took the hand, and despite his general appearance, Grace Mayfayer found his handshake to be firm. She led him to the end of the hall, where some couches had been placed together in a failed attempt to create a cosy corner. The two women sat down on a couch, and Kurt took place opposite them, Mr. Schuester sitting next to him.

Kurt eyed the women inquisitively as they put down their briefcases and took out a number of papers and folders. The women who had introduced herself as Grace was a tall, somewhat sturdy looking person with an impressive blonde perm that was held up with such an amount of hairspray Kurt was sure he could break an egg on it. Her younger colleague had long, sleek, black hair which hung loosely over her shoulders and which, together with the thick-rimmed glasses she wore, gave her a distinctly nerdy appearance. Unfortunately her washed-out jeans and the 3-year old top she wore above it didn't flatter her much, thus letting a beautiful opportunity at nerdy chique go to waste. It was a pity, Kurt thought, she could've been pretty if she tried.

"So, Ms. Mayfayer, Ms. Cleever, how can I help you?"

"Well, Kurt...," Grace Mayfayer hesitated. "Can I call you Kurt?"

The boy nodded almost imperceptibly, and the woman continued.

"Kurt, could you tell us who is currently taking care of you?"

Kurt looked genuinely surprised at the question, and shot a quick glance at Mr. Schuester before he replied.

"Why, me, of course."

"I mean, who prepares your meals, does the laundry, cleans your room, ... ?"

"As I said," he replied impatiently, "I do. I have done all those things since my mother died - my dad can't cook to save his life, and there is no way I am letting _him_ wash my Versace jeans and silk shirts. May I ask why you want to know?"

The two women across the table exchanged a glance, and the younger one continued.

"It has been brought to our attention, Kurt, that you, as a minor, are currently living alone with no parent or guardian. This... I'm afraid this is against regulations. Do you have any relatives, aunts, grandparents, ... who could take you in?"

Kurt slowly shook his head, not liking the direction this conversation was going.

"It's just me and my dad. It always has been. And we're doing just fine."

Julia Cleever hesitated before she continued.

"Kurt, with your dad currently... being in the state he is in, he can obviously not take care of you properly. You need an adult, a guardian, to take responsibility for you."

"I take responsibility for myself just fine, thank you very much," Kurt replied, somewhat agitatedly, before Mr. Schuester took the word.

"Ms. Cleever, Ms. Mayfayer, I would gladly take responsibility for Kurt, if that is the problem." Will Schuester quickly shot a glance at Kurt, who had already opened his mouth in protest. "Kurt is a very gentle and kind person, and I would be happy to welcome him in my house."

"And you are?", Julia Cleever asked.

"Will. Will Schuester. I am the director of New Directions, Kurt's Glee Club at school."

"And do you have a written form by Burt Hummel assigning you guardianship over his son?"

Mr. Schuester hesitated.

"Well, no, but ... ."

"Then I am sorry but in that case I'm afraid we can't let you take Kurt home."

"Well, _I_ am very sorry to interrupt this little chit chat," Kurt came between them, "and thank you Mr. Schue for the offer, but I'm doing perfectly fine on my own, I don't need anyone to take care of me. My dad will wake up any time now, and then he'll come home with me."

"Kurt...," Ms. Mayfayer was clearly weighing her words, "what if your dad doesn't wake up?"

"He will. Soon."

It didn't sound nearly as convincing as he'd hoped it would.

"He might. Or he might not. Meanwhile, what will happen with the garage? Where will you get the money to pay the medical bills? Get a job? Will you be able to combine with school?"

"Then what do you suggest I do?", Kurt asked, his face now flushed at the idea of these women deeming him not mature enough to take care of himself. "Are you going to place me in foster care or something?"

"Well, yes, that..."

"No." Kurt's tone didn't leave any room for contradiction. "No. I am not going into foster care. I am not going to a home and share a room with 5 other boys who have no idea of the importance of skin care and beauty sleep. I am not. Mr. Shue, tell them I am not doing that, I will _not_ do that!"

The boy looked at Mr. Schuester exasperatedly, panic now in his eyes. His room had always been his sanctuary, his safe haven. However much he had been teased, or bullied, or mistreated, his room had always been the one place where he could be himself, where he could find quiet and peace if everything else seemed to explode around him. Being sent to a foster home, spending 24/7 with other kids without his own room to go back to, seemed like a punishment he did not deserve.

"Isn't there any way around this?" Will Schuester looked pleadingly at the two women in front of him. "Kurt really is a model student, he is at the top of his class, and he's a much appreciated member of ... "

"Mr. Schuester," Ms. Mayfayer said, "I understand what you are trying to do, and I am sure Kurt appreciates it, but I'm afraid we cannot change the law on a case-to-case basis. In the absence of an acting guardian for Kurt, he becomes our responsibility, and we cannot just leave him with the first person who offers to step up, however sincere that offer is. I am sure you understand."

She looked at him intently before turning her attention back to Kurt.

"Kurt, we have found a foster family that would gladly take you in as long as your dad remains here in the hospital."

Kurt would have snorted if he had been the snorting type of person, but he settled for a haughty flick of his head, crossing his arms as he leaned back in the couch. Sure a foster family might give him his own room, but he still felt rebellion rise at the idea of two complete foreigners taking him in and playing happy family.

"I'm still not going. You can't make me go. I'll have to change schools and I want to stay at McKinley, I... I'm happy there. "

Will Schuester looked sideways at Kurt, somewhat surprised by the last sentence. Kurt stating so bluntly he was actually _happy_ at McKinley was definitely an improvement over last year, when the boy had settled for simply surviving his high school days one period at a time.

"As a matter of fact, we _can_ make you go." There was a sudden sharp edge to Grace Mayfayer's tone. She was a woman of principle and although she clearly preferred things to be arranged peacefully, there was no doubt in her voice that if it didn't work out the easy way, it would be made to work out the hard way. "But this family lives in Kenton. It is not as close as you live now, obviously, but it is still only a 40 minute commute. You could stay at McKinley if you wanted to."

Kurt relaxed a little, but the apprehension was still apparent on his face.

"So you expect me to move in with people I have never even met? Do they have other kids? What if I don't like them? What if they don't like me? I'm out and proud, you know."

He looked at Grace Mayfayer challengingly.

"I can assure you they are accepting, open-minded people," the woman replied, "and they have one son, who is your age, I believe. He attends private school. They have been in our foster program for a long time, and have taken in several children on previous occasions. I have heard none of them complain about their stay there."

Kurt didn't say anything, and sat staring at the coffee table. Despite himself, he felt his defenses crumble down quickly. He didn't feel he needed replacement parents to take care of him, but on the other hand... it would be nice to come home and just... be taken care of, for once. It had been a rough couple of weeks, and he desperately longed for a break, a pause.

"Kurt... I know this is hard... but I really believe this is the best for everyone involved."

Kurt looked up.

"Will I get to see my dad, still?"

Grace Mayfayer smiled. "Of course. You can visit as often as you like. Outside school hours, obviously."

"Then they better have a big cupboard, because I'm not leaving any of my wardrobe behind."

-o0o-

Later that week, as they pulled up to the house, Kurt felt the anxiousness swell up in his throat. He tried to swallow it away, but if anything, it only grew bigger.

"So, here we are!"

Julia Cleever looked sideways to the boy sitting next to her in the passenger's seat. He held his shoulders straight and his chin high, but she suspected, more than she could see, the nervousness behind the mask.

"Are you scared?"

He took a moment before he looked back at her and replied.

"No. No, I'm not scared. Anxious, maybe, and nervous, but not scared. I'm going to a public high school, it doesn't get scarier than that."

Julia couldn't help but smile. Kurt Hummel would always find the humor in a situation, she had learned that much.

"Ok then! Let's get you settled in your home away from home!"

Inside, Kurt was grateful that Julia hadn't referred to the people he was going to meet as "your new family" or, even worse, "your new parents". He had a parent and he was quite happy with him thank-you-very-much, there was no way these people were going to be anything but a legal obstacle to overcome.

He got out of the car and looked at the house. It wasn't big. It was huge. There were no less than 4 cars on the driveway, and still there was room for his own. The front door was flanked by 6 windows on each side, and on both ends of the house, a small tower was built (Kurt grinned to himself when he imagined himself living in one of them, Rapunzel style), adding another 2 floors to the 3-floor building. This size of house and only one son? They either had a lot of staff or the son was a heavily spoiled brat with a separate room for each of his Xbox games. He couldn't imagine why people this rich would bother with foster care - it was probably their way of "giving back", which in their mind would translate in taking in a poor kid and then letting their personnel look after him/her. Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad after all... .

"Kurt, I really don't know why you need all this stuff." Julia shook her head as she finished unloading the trunk. "What _is_ all that?"

"Oh, you know," he said mindlessly, "skin care, cosmetics, pajamas, clothes, hats, scarfs, ... my bedazzler, obviously. Just the basics. I'll bring the rest later this week, I guess."

He took two of the suitcases and carried them graciously to the front door, although Julia could've sworn they weighed a ton each when she unloaded them. She swung a backpack over her shoulder and took the remaining suitcases, feeling much like a donkey as she followed Kurt over the path to the house.

"Ready?" she asked, when they found themselves at the front door.

"Ready," he said.

-o0o-

"Kevin! Kevin!"

Barbara Anderson hurried towards the door. She quickly checked herself in the mirror, adjusting one of her blonde curls and preening her blouse carefully. She knew 17-year old boys were not likely to be bothered by how she looked (despite looking quite stunning for a woman her age, she had passed the point of being interesting to teenage boys), but she still wanted to make a good impression.

"Kevin! Kevin, the boy's here, I'll need you to carry his luggage!"

She arrived at the front door, taking a last deep sigh before she reached out for the knob and opened the door.

In front of her stood the short, dark-haired woman she'd gotten to know as Julia Cleever, her main contact person at the Child Welfare Association. And next to her stood... a teenage boy. He was slightly taller than Julia, with brown, silky hair that fell lightly over his forehead. His frame was thin, as if lately he hadn't eaten properly, and his pale skin stood out against the black outfit he'd chosen for the occasion: a tight jeans, wool turtleneck and a stylish red-buttoned trench coat which may or may not have been an original Marc Jacobs. She had never been happier for the time she'd spent on her own outfit, because her trained eye saw quickly that it would be a challenge to look fabulous when this boy was around.

"Hi Barbara!" Julia said happily, "So, this is Kurt - Kurt, I'd like you to meet Barbara Anderson."

Kurt held out his hand and forced himself to speak. "It's nice to meet you, Ms. Anderson."

"Oh please, call me Barbara, everyone does! Unless you want to make me feel old, of course." She winked at Kurt, who, to his own surprise, couldn't come up with a witty comeback. He might just like this woman, he thought.

"So, Kevin will bring up your bags, I've had the north tower prepared for you, if that's alright? It's a bit separate from the rest of the house, but I thought you might... you know... care for your privacy?"

Kurt just smiled, not really knowing what to say, and instead taking in the stunning view of the entrance hall. There was a long, winding stairs on the right, and the wall on the left was completely covered in mirrors. Long, round, square and oddly-shaped mirrors, all in different sizes, but all captured in a heavy, golden frame. It made the room look even bigger than it already was.

He was vaguely aware of a skinny, balding man taking over his suitcases, and being dragged to the living room. He heard Mrs. Anderson and Julia talk to each other but barely listened to what they were saying, his attention focused on the furniture and the paintings that were stuffed in the living room with such enthusiasm there was barely any room left to walk. If he ever were to visit Versailles, he thought, it would look very much like this.  
>Suddenly, he heard his name.<p>

"Kurt? Kurt, are you alright?"

He turned his gaze and looked at Barbara.

"Would you... would you mind if I excuse myself? I'd like to make sure... Kevin... treats my clothes with the proper care."

He thought he saw a glimpse of worry pass in Barbara's eyes, but she let it pass and nodded.

"Of course, Kurt. Just, up the stairs, second floor, at the end of the hallway, the blue door. Those are your rooms."

He smiled gratefully and set off to the majestic staircase he'd seen previously. He was so engulfed in his own thoughts, that he started on the stairs without even looking, and promptly bumped into someone coming down.

"Wo-how watch out!"

He looked up, and startled.

Two big hazel eyes looked down on him, twinkling with excitement. A big, goofy grin was spread over a friendly face, lined with a bunch of the most unruly curls he had ever seen.

"Oh, sorry, I'm so sorry. I... I'm new here. I'm... Kurt."

Kurt held out his hand, cursing himself. _I'm new here_. Really, Hummel, really?

But the other boy didn't seem to have noticed anything.

"Hi Kurt," he said, as he took the other boy's hand. "I'm Blaine. Blaine Anderson."

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><p><strong>Anyone surprised? No, didn't think so either ;).<br>The idea for this fic came from Swing sets and Sandboxes, where kid!Blaine ends up in foster care. There is further no correlation between both fics, just wanted to give the credit.**

**Some remarks:1. I have completely disregarded the Burt/Carole relationship, for the very simple reason I forgot it was already there in s02e03 (in my mind it came only later), so I might assume they broke up over the summer or something. 2. I have no idea how the foster system works in the States, so I'm taking some poetic license ;). 3. It is exceptional, though possible, that a person would remain in a natural coma this long after a heart attack. The original idea was to just kill Burt off, but I couldn't do it... . 4. I just looked at the map and picked Kenton as being in between Westerville (Dalton) and Lima (WMKH). I've taken the liberty to assume that a) Kurt has a car and b) a 40 minute commute to school is nothing exceptional in the States. Of course, this leaves Blaine with an hour and a half commute, but I'll call poetic license once more, I think ;). If anything else is weirdly inaccurate, drop me a line.**

**I'll leave you to it, thanks for making it this far and if you have, consider reviewing, alerting, pm'ing, ... . Either way, I hope you liked it, and I'll hopefully see you again for the next installment!**


	2. Settling in

Kurt soon discovered that when Mrs. Anderson had explained the way to his "rooms", she had indeed meant "rooms", plural. The north tower apparently had been turned into something of a duplex apartment, with the lower floor made into a living room containing some couches, a bar, and an impressive flatscreen tv. An open door across the room showed a small but organized study, with a large desk and a window with a stunning view over what he assumed was the Anderson's back yard. Both rooms were painted white and furnished with light, comfortable furniture, with not a single painting or picture on the walls - a remarkable contrast with what Kurt had seen in the entrance hall and the living room. He was all the more grateful for it. Upstairs, he found a bedroom with a beautiful 4-poster bed and an en-suite bathroom, and a dressing that was so large he actually had room to spare even with all his clothes unpacked. Kurt needn't have worried about his clothes being mistreated by Kevin, he saw, as he found them all hanging neatly on their hangers, sorted by color.

He fell down onto the bed and closed his eyes. It was nice to be able to relax for a little, and not think about the grocery list on the fridge or the heap of clothes awaiting ironing. His mind wandered off to his dad, alone in the hospital now, and he felt a twitch of guilt - he wasn't supposed to like it here, hell, he wasn't even supposed to _be_ here: he should be there, in the hospital, with his dad. But a voice in the back of his head told him there was nothing he could do. Sitting next to his dad wasn't going to wake him sooner, and it definitely wasn't going to bring Kurt the sleep he desperately needed. He vaguely wondered if he shouldn't take off at least his shoes, but before he could act on that thought, fatigue finally overtook him and Kurt drifted away in a deep, dreamless sleep.

-o0o-

"... and I'll have to get up at _five_ in the morning because otherwise there is no way I'll be able to complete my moisturizing routine _and_ get to school on time with the extra commute I have now. So I'll need to start going to bed at ten - I swear my skin just starts falling apart if I don't get seven hours of sleep."

Mercedes couldn't help but smile, but she nodded compassionately to Kurt. She knew how important his daily routine was for him. And getting up at five was a pain in the ass for sure.

"So, are they nice people? Do they have a nice house?"

"Do they have a nice house? Oh God, Mercedes, you just _have_ to come over, they gave me this room, or rather, an apartment, almost, and it's like, it's bigger than my own place! And, well, I guess they're alright - I haven't seen Mr. Anderson yet, but Mrs. Anderson, Barbara, she's nice. And they have this, butler, or something, his name is Kevin, so whenever I need something, I just call Kevin and he fixes it. It's crazy."

Mercedes' eyes had grown wider with each word he spoke, and she was now looking at him almost in disbelief.

"Wow," she said, "that is so cool! Do they have any other foster kids or anything or is it just you?"

"They have a son, Blaine, but that's their natural child, I think. At least, he said his last name was Anderson. He could be adopted, of course." Kurt paused to think, making a mental note to try and find out this bit of information.

"So you met him already? How old is he? What's he like?" Mercedes' curiosity had suddenly grown tenfold.

"Well, Julia - that's the child welfare counselor - said he was our age, but I don't know, I haven't really spoken to him. We literally bumped into each other when I was on my way to my room yesterday, but then I missed dinner 'cause I had fallen asleep and this morning at breakfast he'd already left. He goes to some private school in Westerville, I believe, so he's got an even longer drive than I have."

"Our age, ha? Hmmm... so... what's he like?"

"Well, as I said, I only really met him in passing, so..."

"Kurt!" Mercedes nudged his shoulder, eyeing him meaningfully. "What I mean is... is he cute?"

She winked and Kurt smiled back, suddenly silent as he remembered those hazel eyes, and that mop of unruly curls that...

"He totally is!" Mercedes squealed, interrupting his thoughts. "You think he's cute! Kurt, you _have_ to introduce me to him, you just have to, I need to approve."

"Mercedes!" Kurt pretended to be shocked. "He has... something... going for him, I admit. But do you even know what he was wearing the other day? Sweatpants. While he _knew_ there were guests coming over. I will _not_ date a guy who wears sweatpants to meet visitors, even if it is on a Sunday. And besides - I don't even know if he's gay."

He paused, thinking back about the Finn-fiasco and how he had sworn never to get involved with straight guys again. But Mercedes nudged his shoulder once more and the tiniest of smiles crept around her mouth.

"Well then... all the more reason to introduce me to him, isn't there?"

Kurt almost choked on his drink and as he looked in Mercedes' eyes, they both burst out laughing.

"Come on," he said, still giggling, "let's go see what Mr. Schuester has in store for us this week."

-o0o-

The next morning as he entered the kitchen, Kurt noticed someone sitting next to Mrs. Anderson at the breakfast table. The man sat with his back to him but was talking vividly to the woman next to him, and Kurt assumed this must be Mr. Anderson, whom he hadn't had the chance to meet yet. He dropped his shoulder bag against the wall and poured himself a bowl of cereal, straightening his shoulders and trying to put on a confident look before joining the couple at the table. When he sat down, however, his breath choked in his throat.

"Good morning, Kurt!"

A familiar pair of hazel brown eyes and a wide smile greeted him, and he swallowed painfully.

"Good morning... Blaine. Mrs. Ande... Barbara," he corrected himself, with a small smile to the woman, but his eyes immediately drifted back to her son. The difference between the boy he'd met on the stairs 2 days earlier and the one that was sitting opposite him right now couldn't have been bigger.

Blaine's unruly curls were being kept in check by an incredulous amount of hair gel, giving him a sterner, more serious look. He was wearing what had to be his school uniform: grey trousers, a white button-up shirt, a red-and-blue tie and a blue blazer with red piping and a red "D" embroidered on the breast pocket. He looked very handsome and distinctively... gay. But Kurt didn't get the time to dwell any further on the complete metamorphosis of Blaine, as the boy now rose up, pressing a kiss on his mother's forehead.

"Have a nice day, mom. And don't wait up for me tonight, okay, the Wolverines are having open practice tonight so me and some guys from school are going to watch. See ya, Kurt!"

He lifted his hand as a greeting for Kurt, before he snatched an apple from the counter and disappeared through the back door.

Sweatpants, hair gel, and football, was all Kurt could think. Not gay, he decided. And not his future boyfriend, that was for sure.

-o0o-

The rest of the week flew by. Despite the missed opportunity to duet with Sam in glee club, Kurt was confident he had blown them all away by his rendition of "Le Jazz Hot" - although honesty required him to say that Rachel had also done an acceptable job for their performance of Happy Days Are Here Again/Get Happy. But it was Friday night now, and he was headed to his room, glad the week was over, and looking forward to a quiet weekend. As he passed through the hall, though, he suddenly heard a voice call him.

"Kurt? Kurt, dear, would you have a moment?"

Kurt stopped, feeling a knot in his stomach. Mrs. Anderson had taken on the habit of calling him "darling", or "dear", and while he knew she meant it in the best of ways, he didn't feel exactly comfortable with it. Still, he was a guest in her house, and so he didn't want to say anything about it. The last thing he wanted was to appear ungrateful because, really, he actually liked his stay at the Anderson's. He liked coming home and being served dinner, he liked dropping his clothes in the laundry basket, knowing someone else would take proper care of them and bring them back spotless and ironed. He didn't have too many memories of his own mother doing those things for him, and although he knew it wasn't Mrs. Anderson but rather Kevin who was doing all the dirty work, there was something about the presence of a woman in the house that he enjoyed thoroughly.

And thus he retraced his steps back to the open door from where the voice had come.

"You called for me?"

Mrs. Anderson turned around, dressed in nothing but her underwear and a pair of nylons. She was holding up two dresses, one long and bright pink, and another one more discrete, black, with a string of white flowers running along one shoulder. Kevin was sitting on the bed, looking at Kurt apologetically, and Kurt had a feeling this was not the first time the family butler had been put in this position.

"Kurt, I need your advice, and old Kevin here is absolutely no help at all. I've got a fundraising dinner tonight, and I don't know what to wear. Optimistic and outgoing," and she held the first dress in front of her, "or stylish and discrete?". She held up the other dress and looked at Kurt.

Kurt swallowed. He wasn't used to seeing women dressed so... sparsely... and certainly not women of the age and with the confidence of Mrs. Anderson. Fashion, on the other hand, that he was used to.

"Are you organizing or attending?" he asked.

"Organizing," she replied. "It's for street children in Peru. Or potable water in Somalia. Can't be sure. So, what do you think?"

She turned back to the mirror she had been looking in earlier and flashed both dresses in front of her again, looking pensive.

"The pink one," Kurt decided.

"People need to be able to recognize you and see you from afar, so they can find you easily. With the right purse..." he walked into the dressing where he'd spotted a collection of purses and handbags, and picked out a beige bag, "... that says you are still there for business. Now, don't go to heavy on the make up..."

By this time he had moved to the vanity table, and quickly picked up some brushes. "You want to say 'Yes, I have invested time in my outfit because I take this seriously, but I do not wish to draw too much attention because I am not here for myself'. So I wouldn't add necklaces, or bracelets. Earrings are a must, though."

He put down the brushes and looked through the earrings hanging on a little tree on the vanity table, holding them up against Mrs. Anderson's ears in turn. He finally decided on a pair and looked at the woman in front of him, frowning.

"Could you let your hair loose," he said. It was an order rather than a request, but Mrs. Anderson complied, taking the pin out of her hair and letting it fall freely over her shoulders. Kurt smiled.

"Perfect," he said.

Mrs. Anderson smiled back at him. Kevin had taken away the black dress and was now helping her into the pink one, his fingers skillfully wrapping the tight fabric around her body, lingering on her perfectly tanned skin just a moment too long before he closed the last button. Mrs. Anderson either didn't notice or didn't care, and started to put in the earrings Kurt had chosen. Finally, she took a look at herself in the mirror, looking content.

"Perfect indeed."

* * *

><p><strong>A rather short chapter, this one, with little to no interaction between our two beloved boys, I know, but I wanted to set the scene and lay some foundations for the next chapter(s). I will make up for it, though - the next one is pure Klaine (fluff). It is partly written, so I might get it out today, otherwise you'll get it tomorrow.<strong>

**Thanks to all those who have alerted the story and/or taken the time to review so far - it does wonders to my self confidence! (yeah, I don't need much ;) ) See you around!**


	3. Bonding time

Kurt turned his SUV on the drive way and turned off the motor, but didn't immediately get out of the car. The image of Burt in the hospital, surrounded by tubes and monitors, wouldn't leave his head.

Every day after school he had gone to visit his dad, every day hoping to see him sitting up, smiling back at him when he entered the room. And every day he went home disappointed. But as hard as it was to see his dad like that, he couldn't _not_ go. He felt he owed it to Burt to visit him, to tell him about his day, about the Andersons, about Glee club so that, when he would wake up, maybe he would remember, and he wouldn't feel as if he missed so much of his son's life.

Kurt let his head rest on the steering wheel as he let out a sigh, not feeling like going inside, but not knowing where else to go either, when he heard something ticking against the window. He looked up to find Blaine standing outside his car, car keys in hand, looking positively dapper in his school uniform. He opened the door.

"Hi Blaine."

"Hi Kurt." The other boy looked at him inquiringly. "Are you alright?"

Kurt tried to force a smile, knowing it looked as fake as it was.

"Yeah... no... I just... I just got back from the hospital and... "

He didn't finish his sentence. He didn't know how.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Kurt slowly shook his head.

Truth was, he wanted nothing more than to talk about it, but he was pretty sure it would end in a lot of tears and sobbing on his part and he really didn't know Blaine well enough to unload all that on him.

Blaine seemed to sense Kurt's discomfort and dropped the subject, but he kept looking at him, as if he was contemplating something.

"Come on," he said finally, apparently having come to a decision, "let's go to my room, watch a movie or something."

Kurt hesitated. He hadn't seen Blaine's room yet. In fact, he hadn't seen much of any of the Andersons at all, preferring to spend his evenings in his room, or hanging with Mercedes or the other glee kids. He knew Mrs. Anderson would gladly welcome him if he were to stay downstairs and watch tv with them after dinner, but it just felt weird. Fortunately, both Mrs. Anderson and Blaine (he was yet to meet Mr. Anderson) seemed to sense his need to be alone -whether from previous experience with foster kids or through simple insight in human nature he didn't know- and hadn't tried to force him into socializing. He was eternally grateful for it. But however much he appreciated his privacy, he really didn't feel like being alone tonight. And to be honest, he was curious to see what Blaine's room looked like. Well, that, and he kinda wanted to get to know Blaine better. And thus he took his bag from the back seat, and followed Blaine inside.

-o0o-

To Kurt's surprise, Blaine's room wasn't all that big. He had expected Blaine to live in quarters similar to his own, with a separate living room and a study, but it was just an ordinary teenage room: 4 walls containing a desk, a bed, a tv, and some cupboards. And an en-suite bathroom. It was still the Anderson's house, after all...

Blaine dropped his bag next to the bed and turned around to face Kurt.

"Make yourself at home," he said, "do you mind if I go put on something more comfortable first?"

Kurt shook his head in silence, and Blaine disappeared to the bathroom. Kurt made his way to the unmade bed in the center of the room and sat down carefully on the edge, looking around the room in wonder. There was chaos everywhere. From the desk filled with papers over the cupboards overflowing with books and magazines to the walls which were completely covered with posters, pictures, and Wolverine scarfs, the room seemed to be too small for all the things it was supposed to contain. One of the cupboard shelves was cramped with trophies and medals Blaine seemed to have won somewhere, and on a stand in the corner stood a dusty guitar. But what drew Kurt's attention was the dvd-rack that, like everything else in the room, was not nearly big enough for Blaine's impressive collection. Piles of dvd's were stacked on top and on the floor next to it and Kurt went over to check out the titles as Blaine walked back into the room. He had gotten rid of his stiff uniform and changed into a loose-fitting t-shirt and...

sweatpants.

Kurt winced, but he really didn't want to give Blaine a reason to kick him out, and so he remained silent, calling on all his self control not to remark on Blaine's choice of clothing and instead pointing at the dvd's.

"You have The Sound of Music here?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Are you kidding me? Who hasn't! It's a classic." Blaine walked over to his bed. "You don't like it?"

Kurt turned around. "Of course, I don't like it - I LOVE it! This is The Sound of Music we're talking about, right?"

He smiled and started singing quietly to himself as he continued to look at the rest of the dvd's.

_I am sixteen going on seventeen  
><em>_I know that I'm naive  
><em>_Fellows I meet may tell me I'm sweet  
><em>_And willingly I believe_

To his surprise, he heard Blaine chime in.

_You need someone older and wiser  
><em>_Telling you what to do  
><em>_I am seventeen going on eighteen  
><em>_I'll take care of you_

"You're messing up the order," Kurt smiled, looking back over his shoulder.

"Yes, well, I wasn't going to risk singing the girl's part and ruin the song," Blaine replied. "You got quite the voice there, by the way."

Kurt took the compliment with a nod of his head. "I do indeed. Though you're not a bad singer yourself."

Blaine laughed.

"Oh, I love singing! We got this glee club at school, The Warblers, we do like a cappella versions of pop songs, it's really cool."

"Wait," Kurt turned around, "you sing at glee club?"

"Yeah! Don't they have one at your school? You should audition, really, I'm sure they would love someone with your voice! And it's just so much fun."

Kurt hesitated. "Actually, I _am_ at glee club. We... we're called New Directions."

"You are? Oh that's so cool! Right? Right?" Blaine repeated his question hesitantly, Kurt's lack of enthusiasm painfully obvious.

"It's... fun," Kurt replied, "but I wouldn't exactly call it... cool..."

Blaine looked confused. "Why are you saying it like that? It's not as if you should be ashamed for being part of a glee club."

Kurt sighed. He didn't want to sit down next to Blaine on the bed, so he walked over to the desk and sat down on the chair instead.

"I should," he said, "I mean, we are. Kind of. Ashamed to be in glee club, that is."

Blaine clearly had no clue what he was talking about.

"At McKinley... my school... being in glee club is... not cool." Kurt explained. "It's like... the opposite of cool. We get made fun of, all of us. Well... some more than others... but..."

"Kurt?" Blaine suddenly sat up, a worrying look in his eyes. "Are you being bullied?"

Kurt paused a minute before he replied, pondering about what to say. He had never really talked about this with anyone, and Blaine was still very much a stranger to him.

"Not bullied... per se... I just get... teased. A lot. Not just about glee club. About... being gay. And all that."

Kurt's eyes were fixed on the ground, and thus he didn't see the painful expression that, for a moment, darkened Blaine's face.

"Yeah, I get that... ," Blaine said, pensively, "kids in high school can be incredibly mean. At my previous school I used to get shoved into lockers all the time too. People calling me names, avoiding me in class. I had to quit the football team because nobody wanted to shower while I was in the locker room. Not that I was that good at the game but still... I really liked playing, you know?"

For a moment, Kurt was speechless. "You're... you're gay?"

Blaine burst out laughing, utterly amused at the incredulous look on Kurt's face.

"Well, yes. How many straight guys have The Sound of Music in their dvd collection, you think?"

But Kurt still couldn't get over the fact that that boy, that sweatpants-loving boy, was supposedly gay.

"But... but... you love football!"

"And you love scarfs," Blaine cocked his head slightly, "your point being?"

"You wear sweatpants!" Kurt exasperated, completely ignoring Blaine's last remark.

"They're comfy!" Blaine looked genuinely hurt and slightly embarrassed, pulling the sheets over his legs so that his pants were hidden.

The silence that followed wasn't uneasy, but it wasn't exactly comfortable either. It was Kurt who spoke first.

"So you were bullied too?"

Blaine nodded, his face serious again.

"Every day. It got really bad, and after some time I... I just couldn't take it anymore. I transferred to Dalton. They have a no bullying policy, and I finally felt safe there. I will always regret not standing up to those bullies but... I guess I just wasn't strong enough. Not like you."

"I'm not strong."

"Yes, you are." There was an urgency in Blaine's voice that made Kurt look up. "When your dad became ill, you didn't crumble, you stood up, you dealt with the garage customers, you didn't let it get you down. You got placed in foster care, you had to leave your house and your stuff, and you took it all with grace. You get bullied every day, but you're still standing tall, you still manage to smile, to find humor in little things. Don't underestimate yourself, Kurt, you're stronger than you think."

But Kurt slowly shook his head.

"I don't know, Blaine. Sometimes I wish I could just disappear forever, you know? Just... run away and never look back."

"That's not a solution, Kurt, you know that. But how about the other glee kids? Don't they back you up?"

Kurt made a face. "They barely notice. And even if they do, I don't think they realize how bad it gets, sometimes. They're all too wrapped up in their personal drama to see what's going on around them. Even Mr. Shuester - that's our choir director - I mean, he's nice, he even lets us do Rocky Horror this week, but everybody knows he's really just doing it to impress Ms. Pilsb-"

"You're doing the Rocky Horror Picture Show?" Blaine all but shouted. "Wow, that is so... so WOW!"

Kurt smiled at the obvious enthusiasm of the other boy and nodded, welcoming the change of subject.

"I guess it is... 'wow'. Kinda."

"So who do you get to be? Frank-N-Furter?"

It earned Blaine an indignant look.

"What is it about me that makes everyone want to cast me as a transvestite in high heels and fish nets? For your information, I will be playing Riff Raff."

Much to Kurt's surprise, Blaine nodded approvingly.

"Cool! So is it going to be an open performance?"

Kurt hesitated. "I guess... I mean, we were planning to use the proceeds of admission to pay for transportation to nationals. Why?"

"Cause we'd come and watch, obviously! I'm sure my mum would love it. She's always so excited when I get to perform with the Warblers, she'll go crazy when she hears you perform too."

"But," Kurt stuttered, suddenly shy, "but she doesn't even know me! You don't even know me!"

But Blaine brushed off his words easily. "Nonsense, you're part of the family now, right? You know what?" He got up and walked to the dvd-rack. "Let's watch the original Rocky Horror! You have to prepare for your role, right? I'm sure I got some toilet paper around here..."

He slid the dvd in the player, taking the remote with him as he returned to his bed. Making himself comfortable, he suddenly looked at Kurt, realizing the boy hadn't moved at all.

"Kurt? You ok? Come sit here on the bed with me," he patted on the space next to him. "It's much more comfortable than that chair, I can assure you, and besides, you can't really see the tv from there. I promise I don't bite."

The last sentence was accompanied by a mischievous wink, although Kurt doubted whether Blaine was aware exactly how mischievous it looked. Slowly, he got up and positioned himself next to Blaine on the bed. Unlike Kurt's queen size bed, Blaine's was a single bed, so that both boys had to sit fairly close together in order to fit. Blaine seemed either not to notice or not to care, but Kurt was painfully aware of the other boy's shoulder pressing gently against his, their hips mere centimeters apart. He was pretty sure he had never been this close to another boy, let alone a _gay_ boy, and he found it strangely unsettling and exciting at the same time. He cast a sideways look to Blaine, who was now navigating through the menu to start the movie. For such a relatively young guy, Blaine already had a very strong jaw line, and Kurt could see small stubbles on his cheeks where his beard was starting to grow back. He couldn't help but wonder how it would feel to trail his finger over them, or how it wou-

"Gah, this is gonna be so much fun," Blaine interrupted his train of thoughts, bouncing up and down the bed with excitement. "I love this movie!"

Kurt couldn't help but smile. "More than The Sound of Music?"

"Oh no!" Blaine pretended to be shocked at the idea. "Nothing beats The Sound of Music. But Rocky Horror is a close second, wouldn't you agree?"

He gave Kurt another of his mischievous winks, and pressed play.

"Come on, let's watch a movie."

-o0o-

"Kurt? Kurt?"

The voice was vaguely familiar, and Kurt turned around sleepily to see who it was coming from when he felt himself fall. He screamed, suddenly wide awake- and then felt a strong arm grab him around his waist, pulling him back up and on the bed. Blaine sat looking at him, grinning.

"Hello there, sleeping beauty. I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't hurt yourself falling off beds, my mum would never forgive me."

Kurt rubbed his eyes.

"Did I ... did I fall asleep?" He looked down to find his shirt and trousers full of wrinkles, and he cursed himself silently - those were going to take ages to straighten out.

"Somewhere between Over at the Frankenstein Place and The Time Warp, yes. I really would have thought you'd at least have stayed awake until Tim Curry came along, though, I know you're a sucker for men in fishnets."

"Oh please, what is it with people connecting me to fishn-," Kurt started indignantly before he caught sight of the enormous grin on Blaine's face and he realized the boy had been joking. He felt his cheeks flush.

"Oh."

"I didn't want to wake you up, you seemed like you really needed the rest, but the movie's over and I'd like to go to sleep myself. My bed isn't all that large for us to share..."

Blaine looked almost apologetically, and Kurt quickly sat up, suddenly embarrassed.

"No, no, of course, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have... sorry."

He jumped off the bed, trying to locate his bag and picking it up on his way to the door.

"I'm really sorry," he said as he turned around, "I didn't want to-"

"Kurt. It's ok. Don't worry." Blaine looked at him, smiling reassuringly. "Really. Just... go to bed."

"O-ok." Kurt felt like he needed to say something, but he wasn't quite sure what. Blaine finally decided for him.

"Goodnight, Kurt."

"Goodnight, Blaine."

-o0o-

Kurt stopped for a moment outside Blaine's room, trying to orient himself. He was sure he was imagining things, but he could've sworn he still felt the imprint of Blaine's arm around his waist. Whether it was this feeling distracting him or that the Anderson's house was just difficult to navigate he didn't know, but it took him 2 wrong turns before he finally found himself in his own room. He took off his clothes and simply dropped them on the floor - they were ruined anyway, he would deal with them tomorrow.

He was just getting into his bed when he remembered something, and went back to his bag to take his phone out, before he finally crept under the sheets. There was a small smile playing around his lips as he wrote the message, and then sent it.

-o0o-

_Ting_.

The girl pondered for a moment about what it was that had woken her up before she turned around and blindly reached out for her phone on the night stand, vaguely wondering who was sending her a text at this hour of the night. The screen light blinded her, and she squinted her eyes, trying to read the message.

_From: Kurt  
><em>_Sent: October 29 2010 23:45:16  
><em>_He's on my team. Really got to get him to drop the sweatpants though._

Mercedes smiled, pretty sure that Kurt was completely oblivious to the double meaning of his last sentence. She'd have to explain him, she thought absent-mindedly. Tomorrow. It was the last thought in her mind before she drifted back to sleep.

* * *

><p><strong><span>Song<span>: Sixteen going on seventeen - The Sound of Music**

**Does this classify as fluff? I hope it does... I'd hate to disappoint you guys... I tried to capture Blaine as good as I could, but his inner Darren just keeps popping out - I actually miswrote his name a couple of times... not good!**

**Anyway, a big 'HI' to all you new subscribers - I only hope you like the story as much as I like to see your notifications! Enjoy the ride on the Klaine-train, and see you next time!**


	4. Caught!

"... and now, drumroll Finn!" Mr. Schuester looked positively excited, holding an official looking paper in his hands. "Because I have, in my hand, our competition for Sectionals next month!"

The whole glee club started clapping and shouting enthusiastically, curious to see who they would be up against this year. They had won the competition the previous year, and were fully planning on repeating their performance.

"First: The Hipsters, a first year club from the Warren Township Continuing Education Program. Now, they are a glee club composed entirely of elderly people getting their high school GEDs."

This caused some hilarity among the glee club members - surely they would be able to beat a couple of old people, right?

"And the other team to beat," Mr. Schuester continued, "the a cappella choir from the all boys private school in Westerville, the Dalton Academy-"

"Warblers!"

It was Kurt who had shouted out the last word, and now slammed his hand in front of his mouth, embarrassed by his spontaneous outburst. It didn't do anything to hide the fact he had been the one shouting, though, and the entire glee club was now looking at him.

"Yes, Kurt," Mr. Schue said, shooting him an investigating look, "the Dalton Academy Warblers. Do you know them?"

"Yes! I mean... no... it's just... Blaine, my... eh..."

Kurt paused, not quite knowing how to formulate what he was about to say. What was Blaine to him? An acquaintance? A guy he shared a house with? Someone he'd fallen asleep next to?

"... a friend of mine," he finally decided, "Blaine, he sings in the Warblers."

"Well, that's nice, Kurt," Mr. Schuester said, a bit apprehensive. "Just don't let him get hold of our setlist, will you? Now, to get you in the competition spirit, for this week's assignment we will..."

-o0o-

"Ok, Lance Bass, we need to have a talk."

Kurt didn't even look up when he felt Puck falling in step with him as he left the choir room.

"Exactly. You have to spy on that friend of yours."

Rachel now joined him on the other side, and Kurt cast a sideways glance to see that look on her face, that determined look that didn't promise anything good.

"His name is Blaine. And I don't have to do anything of the sorts."

But both Rachel and Puck now stepped in front of him, effectively blocking his way and stopping him in his tracks.

"Kurt, you know as well as I do that we got lucky last year. Coach Sylvester will take every opportunity she can possibly think of to steal our spotlight. We simply can't leave anything to chance."

"Yeah, dude, winning last year at Sectionals was the first time that I really felt a part of something good. And I'm not gonna let some private school sissies in uniforms take that away from me."

Kurt felt himself flush with anger at Puck's description of Blaine, but before he could open his mouth, Rachel cut him off.

"What Puck is trying to say," she said, directing a death glare at the football player, "is that winning Sectionals last year brought us closer together as a group. But that bond is still fragile, and if we don't win this, we could easily lose it again."

"So you want me to cheat to help us win Sectionals for the sake of the group?"

"Yes! Auw!"

Puck shot an indignant look at Rachel, clutching his arm where the diva had elbowed him.

"Of course not! Kurt, I would never ask you to lower yourself to the level of _cheating_! I just... ," Rachel tilted her head, considering the best way of phrasing this. "I just ask you to help us, to help the glee club, be as prepared as we can possibly be."

"By stealing The Warblers' setlist?", Kurt asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, not necessarily," Rachel said matter-of-factly, "but if you would happen to come across such information, that could of course-"

"Forget it, Rachel, I'm not doing it."

Kurt made to push past them, but Puck stopped him.

"Come on, dude!"

"Kurt, _please_... I am not asking you this for myself - my talent will bring me to Broadway within the next five years whether we win this competition or not. But the others, Tina, and Mercedes, everyone: they've worked so hard, and this competition may be the only chance they will ever get to receive some form of recognition."

Rachel was looking up at him, and there was something in her eyes that made Kurt consider that maybe -just maybe- she was indeed not pleading her own case this time.

"Alright," he finally gave in, "I'll see if I can find something."

Rachel flew around his neck.

"I knew you'd do it for me!"

"I'm not promising anything though!"

But Rachel didn't appear to hear him. She was jumping up and down with excitement now, clapping her hands.

"Thank you, Kurt. I won't forget this."

-o0o-

Kurt slowly opened the back door and slipped through it. He felt like a thief breaking in into his own house, and in a way, that was exactly what he was. He'd gone straight home after school - he knew Blaine usually finished early on Tuesdays, but he hoped his shorter commute would give him enough time to take a quick look around in the other boy's room. He silently hoped Mrs. Anderson would not be home - he didn't want to run the risk of having to explain why, on top of the stairs, he turned right to Blaine's room instead of left, to his own. But his hope flew out the window as soon as he entered the kitchen.

Weeks later, when Kurt finally found the courage to tell Blaine what he had seen that day, he didn't include all the details. He didn't tell him how Mrs. Anderson's blouse had fallen off her shoulders, laying casually on the floor. He didn't tell him about the noises that both Mrs. Anderson and her lover had been making. He didn't tell him about the fierceness with which the man's hands had been groping Mrs. Anderson's back, and head, and... ass. And he certainly didn't tell him that he had stood there a good 5 minutes, in shock, before he had finally turned around. Because Kurt had seen those hands before, on that very same naked back, when they had carefully draped a pink dress around Mrs. Anderson's body a few weeks earlier...

Thoughts were racing through his head as he sneaked back out of the kitchen even more silently than he had entered. Mrs. Anderson and... Kevin? But he didn't have the time to dwell on his discovery, especially since the kitchen being out of bounds meant he would have to go all around the house to even get to the stairs. He looked down at his watch. Maybe he should do this some other time... . He considered it for a moment, but then shook his head. He really just wanted to have this over and done with.

He didn't take any wrong turns this time, and soon found himself standing in front of Blaine's bedroom door. He hesitated for a moment, gathering his courage. He still wasn't very comfortable with the idea of spying on Blaine, especially not now they'd just started to get along. Just the other night, they had watched Sweeney Todd -this time Kurt had made it through the movie without falling asleep-, and had spent hours afterwards discussing who they would cast if they were to make a gender-reversed version. But he had promised Rachel that he would take a look, and that was exactly what he was going to do. Simply get in, have a look around, and get out - after all, Rachel hadn't specified exactly how detailed his look was supposed to be. Kurt turned the knob, and entered the room.

-o0o-

"Oh Kúrt! You are the worst spy ever! I _knew_ I should've just done it myself."

The first thing Kurt had done when he got back to his room was to skype Mercedes and Rachel to tell them how it had gone. He almost wish he hadn't, because Rachel was now looking quite furiously at him from his laptop screen.

"Rachel, please, don't look at me like that. It's bad enough as it is."

Kurt felt every bit as miserable as he looked, the memory of being caught still fresh in his mind.

.

_Once in Blaine's room, Kurt went straight to the desk. There were papers and folders everywhere, stacked in seemingly unorganized heaps, so he just flicked through them randomly. There were English essays, magazines, summer pictures, and even an herbarium buried at the bottom of one pile. Kurt's eye fell on one of the pictures - a group shot from what he guessed was a summer camp. 10 or 12 boys and girls in horse-riding gear were posing, taking goofy positions and making overall crazy faces. Blaine was easily recognizable at the edge of the back row. He was bending sideways because a black haired boy standing next to him had his arm wrapped around Blaine's neck, pulling him down, rubbing his knuckles on Blaine's head. Both boys were laughing and seemed to have the time of their lives.  
>Kurt was still looking at the picture in his hand when he heard the door open and when he spun around, he found himself standing face to face with Blaine.<em>

_._

"Was he very angry?" Mercedes asked apprehensively.

"Not really, actually," Kurt said, "I'd even say he was more... amused? I tried to talk myself out of it saying that Mrs. Anderson had sent me for him, but that hardly explained why I was looking through his papers and he wasn't even supposed to be home that time so..."

He brought his hands to his face and moaned.

"It was so embarrassing. I can't believe I let myself be talked into this!"

"And _I_ can't believe you didn't take that setlist!" Rachel shouted.

.

_"Is it this what you were looking for?"  
>Blaine was holding up a piece of paper, and Kurt tried to read from afar what it said.<br>"What's that?"  
><em>_"The Warbler's setlist, obviously. Want it?"  
><em>_Kurt pulled back his outstretched hand as quickly as if he had burned himself. Sure, that was what he had come for, but getting it this way seemed... wrong. And quite possibly a trick.  
><em>_"Why would you think I want that?"  
><em>_Blaine raised an eyebrow, surprised and slightly indignant.  
><em>_"Kurt... we found out about our Sectionals competition today as well. And then I come home to find you going through my stuff. I can put one and one together."  
><em>_Kurt felt his face flush, feeling more embarrassed with every moment passing.  
><em>_"So, do you want it?"  
><em>_Blaine was still waving the piece of paper in front of Kurt.  
><em>_"I... I'll have to give you ours then as well, won't I?"  
><em>_Blaine smiled. "That would only be fair, don't you think?"_

_._

"See?" Mercedes asked. "He couldn't just take it like that! Or would you rather have Kurt give the Warblers our setlist?"

"Well no," Rachel replied, "but we could've given them a fake list."

"Rachel!"

Kurt and Mercedes shouted in unison, shocked that their lead singer -and co-captain of the glee club at that- even dared to suggest such a thing. Rachel started to defend herself, but Mercedes cut her off, and before long both divas were dragged into a shouting argument Kurt was sure could be heard by his neighbors - and they lived 100 yards down the road.

"Ladies, _please_, stop shouting, you're making my head hurt!"

Both girls immediately shut up, and Kurt savored the silence for a moment before he continued, a small smile playing around his lips.

"You see, my mission was not a failure... overall... "

.

_"I'm so sorry, I don't know what I was thinking, it's just that Rachel-"  
><em>_"Kurt..."  
><em>_"she was so persisting and then Puck-"  
><em>_"Kurt!"  
><em>_"and I don't even remember why I agreed to-"  
><em>_"KURT!"  
><em>_Kurt shut up, startled by Blaine's sudden outburst. He saw the other boy looking at him, arms crossed, and smiling, as if he thought this whole situation was quite amusing.  
><em>_"It's ok. I think I might start locking my room from now on..." Kurt felt his face flush once again at this statement. "but I understand. To be fair... I was considering to try and pry some information from you too."  
><em>_"You were?"  
><em>_"Well, I wasn't planning on _breaking into your room_ but... yeah..."  
><em>_There was a sly smile playing around Blaine's lips, and suddenly Kurt couldn't help but start laughing.  
><em>_"You're never gonna let me forget about this, are you?"  
><em>_Blaine grinned.  
><em>_"You can bet on that, pretty boy."_

_._

"He called you 'pretty boy'?" Mercedes clapped her hands excitedly.

"Shut up, that is hardly the point of the story!" Kurt tried to sound indifferent, although he still felt a little jolt in his stomach at the memory of those words. "Just listen, will you?"

.

_"Either way, would you like to see us perform?"  
><em>_Kurt's mouth fell open.  
><em>_"The... The Warblers? Will they even let me? I mean..."  
><em>_Blaine laughed.  
><em>_"I had been planning to ask you anyway. But a couple of weeks before competition, The Warblers usually throw a performance for the whole school. An official one, I mean, we tend to start singing impromptu from time to time as well." He chuckled. "Anyway, we're having one tomorrow. It's an open performance, so anyone can attend - don't get your hopes up, we won't bring out our Sectionals material. It's just to try some things out, get the feel of the stage again and such... and it always gives us such a motivational boost from the other students."  
><em>_Kurt felt his heart drop - New Directions would never be able to get a 'motivational boost' from their fellow students. Some slushees in the face, maybe, but motivation? Never. It would make it extra interesting to attend a Warblers performance.  
><em>_"I'd love to see that. Tomorrow after school?"  
><em>_"Tomorrow after school," Blaine confirmed. "Now get out of my room so I can clean up the mess you made."  
><em>_He pointed at the desk behind Kurt, which looked not in the least bit messier than when Kurt had entered the room.  
><em>_"Good luck with that," Kurt smiled, hearing the sarcasm in Blaine's voice, "I have done a very thorough job if I may say so myself."  
><em>_Blaine pretended to kick Kurt as he passed, sending the countertenor in a giggling fit as he quickly slipped through the door.  
><em>_"See you tomorrow!"_

.

"So you're going to a Warblers concert?" Rachel asked, eyes wide open.

"I will indeed," Kurt said smugly, "so remind me again, who was the worst spy ever?"

Rachel gave in. "Kurt, you are the best spy we could've sent. What do you think, Mercedes?"

But Mercedes seemed to have her mind set on something totally different, and her eyes sparkled as she giggled.

"I think Kurt and Blaine have their very first date tomorrow!"

And nothing Kurt said to her that night could change her mind.

-o0o-

The Dalton Academy auditorium wasn't big, but it was cosy. With its many arcs and colorful mosaics, it reminded Kurt of the ballrooms that were popular in the 1920s and 1930s. The chairs that usually occupied the parterre had been removed, and the space was now filled with blazer-clad boys, talking and laughing quietly in anticipation of the performance. Kurt had chosen a pair of grey trousers and a black leather jacket in an attempt to blend in, and although nobody seemed to pay particular attention to him, he still felt himself stick out like a sore thumb.

Suddenly, the muffled laughter surrounding him turned into loud cheering when some 15 boys in red-and-blue blazers filled the stage. Kurt looked around in wonder at the cheering audience who welcomed The Warblers as if they were rockstars. The boys on stage smiled and waved at their audience, and Kurt felt his stomach jump when Blaine looked straight at him and winked before taking his position in the center of the group.

Finally, the cheering died out, and the auditorium went silent. Then, although Kurt couldn't say who or what had given the signal, a rhythmic murmur started to filled the hall. Kurt had never quite seen an all boys a cappella choir perform before, and he found himself listen in fascination to their voices melding together, forming a rhythm, a melody, and finally, words.

_Oh baby baby..._

Kurt's eyes widened. Surely this couldn't be...

_Oh baby baby..._

The look in his eyes was one of surprise and shock as he saw Blaine break away from the group, taking the solo in one of the cheesiest, girliest songs Kurt had ever heard.

_Oh baby baby  
>how was I supposed to know...<em>

The Warblers, an all boys a cappella show choir, were singing Britney Spears in front of an all boys, private school audience. And they were killing it.

_that somethin' wasn't right?_  
><em>Oh baby, baby<em>  
><em>I shouldn't have let you go<em>  
><em>and now you're outta sight<em>

_Show me how you want it to be_  
><em>Tell me baby 'cause I need to know now<em>  
><em>Oh because<em>

Blaine in particular was killing it. Kurt had heard him sing before, obviously, but never with the full force of his voice, and never in front of an audience. He remembered Blaine telling him that he loved singing, but it was clear there was something else he loved even more: performing. While the rest of the Warbler boys were side-stepping and finger-clicking in the background, Blaine turned, twisted, skipped, and hopped all over the stage, his face as full of emotion as his voice. Although Kurt had gotten to know Blaine as a friendly, ever smiling person, there always was a reservedness over him that made him look a bit stiff at times. But right there on stage there wasn't a single trace of stiffness left. Simply watching Blaine perform was enough to get anyone out of their chairs and on the dance floor.

_My loneliness is killin' me  
>I must confess I still believe<br>When I'm not with you I lose my mind  
>Give me a sign, hit me baby one more time<em>

Kurt was ready to sink through the floor as he caught Blaine's eyes.

"It's almost exhausting just to watch him, don't you think?"

Kurt looked aside. The boy was slightly taller than himself, with untamed black, spiky hair, and Kurt recognized him as the one that had had his arm around Blaine in the picture he had seen in Blaine's room just the day before.

"I'm Kyle, by the way. You a prospective student?"

Kyle pointed at the obvious lack of a uniform, making Kurt painfully aware of how much he stood out.

He shook his head. "No, I'm just... Blaine invited me. I'm Kurt."

He held out his hand and the other boy took it, looking him up and down.

"Kurt? Kurt Hummel?"

Kurt nodded, slightly surprised and a bit uneasy. How did this boy know him? And... was he... _checking him out_?

"Nice to finally meet you, man!" Kyle slammed him on the back with such force that Kurt almost lost his balance. "Blaine's been talking so much about you!"

Kurt swallowed painfully. "He... he has?"

He wasn't sure Kyle had actually heard him, because the other boy just continued talking.

"He's always so excited when a new kid arrives, you know, especially when they're his age. Blaine's not one to be alone, and he doesn't have any brothers or sisters, so it always makes him happy to have more people in the house. And it had been a while now..."

Kyle didn't finish his sentence, but there had been something in his voice that had attracted Kurt's attention.

"A while?"

"Ah, it doesn't matter. Anyway, good to see you, I didn't know Blaine had invited you?"

"Well, I sing show choir as well, so Blaine thought-"

Kurt was interrupted by loud cheering and clapping, as The Warblers had now finished the song. He looked as the boys came down from the stage, smiling and shaking hands with their classmates. Kyle was still standing next to him, and Kurt felt a bit awkward with him just standing there, watching.

"So, do you sing too?"

Kyle laughed, a full, uninhibited laugh, the kind that would have had everyone in the room laugh along if they hadn't been so invested in The Warblers.

"No - I mean, I do, and Blaine even got me to try out for The Warblers this year, but I didn't make it."

Kurt winced. "Oh... I'm sorry..."

But Kyle brushed it off.

"Ah, that's ok, I mean, I'm too busy anyway with- oh look, speak of the devil!"

He pointed to somewhere behind Kurt, where Blaine was now walking towards them through the audience. The Warbler had that post-performance euphoria look on his face and made straight for the two boys.

"You! I'm so glad you made it!"

Blaine was hugging Kyle tightly, taking his face into his hands and pressing a kiss on his forehead.

"And I see you met Kurt already! Great! So, what do you think, did you like the performance?"

Kyle raised his eyebrows in amusement.

"Britney Spears, B, really? Did it have to be Britney Spears?"

Blaine chuckled. "Just wait 'till you see what we have in store for Sectionals, you're gonna love it!"

The two boys stood grinning at each other before Blaine seemed to remember Kurt was standing right next to him.

"And you, what did you think? Will you be able to beat us?"

Kurt felt himself crumble under another of Blaine's winks but he pulled himself together.

"Well, you got some impressive harmonies going on there, I admit, but I can promise you here and now: we will kick your ass at Sectionals."

Blaine laughed, and once again Kurt felt his knees turn to jelly. He wasn't too sure what it meant yet, but being there, with Blaine laughing at his silly joke, made him happy. And that was all he needed for now.

-o0o-

That's when it happened. Right then, after winning the boys vs. girls competition, after the Warblers' concert, after the first week since he had moved to the Andersons that Kurt had finally felt _normal_ again. That he had finally felt like everything was going to be alright. That he had finally felt like _he _was going to be alright. That he could do this.

"Courage." Blaine had said to him when he'd found out about the bullying. And Kurt had that courage flowing through his veins when Karofsky pushed him into a locker for what seemed like the millionth time that week. It was that courage that made him go after Karofsky, that courage that had him shout out his frustration, and his pride. But that same courage had left him the moment the jock had pressed his lips onto his - hard and painful and tasting nothing like burgers or Brittany's armpits.

And even later, when Blaine was holding him, comforting him, Kurt couldn't retrieve that courage, finding only fear, and anxiety. Because even though he trusted Blaine, he never told him Karofsky's parting words.

"Don't you dare tell anyone about this or I swear I'll kill you."

* * *

><p><strong><span>Song<span>: Baby one more time - Britney Spears.**

**I'm not 100% happy with it but it's been too long and I wanted to get it out. So here you are, longest chapter so far! It's stuffed with references to canon!Glee and the actors, and I even managed to sneak in a Starkid one ;) - I am truly sorry but I couldn't help myself, it was just so tempting :).**

**Sorry for the delay this one had, but I'm on holidays now, so hopefully I'll be able to get some more chapters out soon! Either way, hope you liked it and don't worry, you'll see more of the other Warblers soon!**

**EDIT - thanks to SceneNeko for pointing out my misspelling of Karofsky's name!**


	5. The full story

Kurt stayed in his room for most of the following weekend. The confrontation of Karofsky that Blaine had suggested had gone less than smoothly, and although it had gotten Kurt a free lunch with Blaine, it hadn't in any way eased the anxiety Kurt was feeling - on the contrary. In addition to that, Kurt had wanted to avoid bumping into Mrs. Anderson or Kevin, and Mrs. Anderson ánd Kevin in particular. He hadn't said a word to anyone about what he had seen the other day - as shocking as it had been, it was none of his business - but now that he knew what to look for he had started to notice little things that made him wonder why he had never seen it before. Hands brushing, looks exchanged, ... it was clear he hadn't just walked in on an accidental kiss. It was almost embarrassing to watch, especially since Blaine seemed to be oblivious, and thus Kurt had tried to steer clear of both of them. But although he managed to evade breakfast and lunch, by Saturday evening he had no choice but to go down for dinner.

He found Mrs. Anderson running around in the kitchen as usual. She loved to cook, and especially during weekends she often went all the way out, spending hours on preparing the perfect dish. If there was one thing Kurt was sure of, it was that he wouldn't lose weight during his stay at the Andersons.

"Hi Mrs. A!"

Kurt had long decided that however much Mrs. Anderson protested, calling her by her first name was simply too weird. He had chosen 'Mrs. A' as an alternative, and although Mrs. Anderson herself still commented on it on a regular basis, she had more or less settled for it. Today, however, no comments passed her lips. In fact, she didn't give any sign that she had even noticed Kurt.

"Mrs. A? Are you alright? Can I help?"

Now Mrs. Anderson jumped, although she relaxed a little when she caught sight of Kurt.

"Oh. It's you. No, it's okay, I'm fi-," she paused, as if remembering something, "or maybe, would you mind slicing the bread?"

"Sure, no problem."

Kurt moved over to the counter and grabbed the bread knife. He glanced over to the older woman, who was now bent over her pots, stirring something that smelled delicious.

"It really smells wonderful, Mrs. A. I think you've outdone yourself once more!" He looked over the counter and into the living room where, as usual, the table was dressed for four. "If I didn't know any better I'd think we had visitors you wanted to impress!"

Mrs. Anderson didn't reply, but Kurt didn't mind. He really cherished these moments, when he would help Mrs. Anderson with her outfit, or assist her in the kitchen -although he hadn't been able to convince Mrs. Anderson of his cooking skills and never got to do more than cleaning vegetables- because he so rarely got to do this with his own parent. He remembered having moments like these with Carole as well, last summer. The memory stung and he quickly pushed it away. His dad and Carole had broken up and that was that, and as far as he knew they hadn't even spoken to each other since.

His train of thought was interrupted when the back door opened and Blaine entered the kitchen. He was smiling broadly, looking energized after spending the whole day in the fresh air. His hair lay flat against his scalp from being stuck under a helmet, some curls sticking to his sweaty forehead, and his horse-riding clothes were spanning tightly around his legs and chest. Kurt immediately turned his attention back to the bread in front of him. Ever since he had seen Blaine perform with The Warblers two days earlier Kurt had been feeling strangely nervous whenever he was around. Blaine was a really good singer, and while Kurt had so confidently said New Directions would kick The Warblers' asses, he found the thought of having to compete against his friend strangely unsettling.

"Hi mom!"

Blaine moved forward to give his mother a kiss, but to his surprise she backed away.

"Dear heavens, _Blaine_! You _smell_!"

She was right - a strong smell of horse mixed with sweat was surrounding Blaine like a cloud. But Blaine laughed.

"Come on, mom, you should be used to that already!"

He stepped closer to his mother, mockingly waving his hands as if to direct the smell coming off him in her direction. It made Mrs. Anderson laugh, but she still refused to hug her son, instead pointing at him with the spoon she had been using to stir.

"Blaine Anderson, now is not the time for mockery," she was clearly trying to be serious, and only barely succeeded, "so would you _please_ go upstairs, take those smelly clothes off and have a shower? Your father's home and I doubt he'd want to see you like this."

The change in Blaine was instantaneous. He stiffened, taking a step back.

"I thought he wasn't supposed to come home till next week?"

Mrs. Anderson actually grimaced.

"Yes, well, plans have changed. Now please go and change?"

Blaine needn't be told twice, and he was out the door and up the stairs in no time. Kurt frowned - Blaine didn't talk much about his dad, and on the one occasion Kurt had asked about him to Mrs. Anderson, he had simply been told that Mr. Anderson was away for business and often stayed away for months. But right now there was something else that was bothering him.

"Mrs. A, shall I add another plate to the table for your husband?"

Mrs. Anderson looked confused for a moment before she realized what he meant.

"No dear, thank you, that's alright. Kevin won't be joining us."

"Kevin won't have dinner with us?" Kurt was surprised. Ever since he had arrived Kevin, although obviously an employee, had always shared meals with them.

"Why _would_ Kevin have dinner with us?"

The voice coming from behind him had a familiar timbre, although it was heavier, and when Kurt looked up, he saw a handsome man in an expensive looking suit entering the kitchen. He looked like a taller, older version of Blaine, except for his eyes, which were not hazel but a greyish blue, like Kurt's. Mrs. Anderson went up to the man, giving him a chaste kiss, and Kurt assumed this had to be Blaine's father, the infamous Mr. Anderson. For a moment he couldn't help but wonder why on earth Mrs. Anderson would prefer small, old, balding Kevin over this man.

"Oh honey, I'm sure Kurt is just confused." She turned to Kurt, a strange look of urgency in her eyes. "Kurt, dear, you know Kevin never eats with us, don't you?"

Kurt blinked. He was smart enough to understand the delicacy of the situation, but he was unsure as to how to react to it.

"Of course, Mrs. Anderson," he smiled, "I just saw an extra plate and was not sure what to think of it."

The relief in Mrs. Anderson's eyes couldn't have been bigger, and Kurt could almost see her mouth a silent 'thank you' to him for playing along.

"So, honey, let me introduce you to Kurt, our foster son. Kurt, this is my husband, Michael Anderson."

Michael Anderson held out his hand, and Kurt took it. The handshake was firm, and Kurt felt the pressure increase slowly, as if the man was testing him. He didn't blink, and looked Mr. Anderson right back in the eye as he returned the pressure - you couldn't help your dad in the garage every weekend and not gain some respectable arm strength.

It seemed he had passed the test, because when they finally let go of each other's hands, the slightest of smiles was playing around Mr. Anderson's lips.

"Nice to meet you, boy."

-o0o-

With a _thump_, Blaine let the history book fall on his desk. The sound echoed trough the otherwise quiet library, earning him a number of indignant looks from his fellow students. He made an apologetic face, and silently slid in his chair to continue his essay on the European witch hunts between 1450 and 1750. He had barely started writing the first paragraph, when a small piece of paper fell on his desk. He looked up to see David, who was sitting across, wink at him.

_Movie and popcorn at my place tomorrow?_

Blaine smiled, scribbling his answer on the back of the paper before he threw it back.

_Can't - having drinks with Kurt._

David pretended to pout as he read the answer so that Jeff, who was sitting next to him, shot him a questioning look. David leaned over, whispering something in Jeff's ear. A mischievous grin appeared around Jeff's lips and he immediately passed the message to Nick, who he was sharing a desk with as per usual. It wasn't long before another note found its way to Blaine's desk. Blaine frowned as he opened it.

_B-boy's going on a date?_

Blaine looked up at David, who shrugged his shoulders and pointed to the two boys sitting next to him, who were snickering uncontrollably, trying their very best not to make any noise. Blaine rolled his eyes. Jeff and Nick were the Warblers' youngest members, and while their usual state of enthusiasm and excitement was generally endearing, it could be extremely annoying as well.

_It's not a date! His friend Mercedes is coming along._

The answer came swiftly.

_A chaperone, damn, that'll kill the mood_.

Blaine rolled his eyes and decided to ignore the two freshmen. Once they had an idea stuck in their heads, there was simply no point trying to get it out. He tried to get back to work, but he could barely concentrate, and he flicked through the history book absent-mindedly, not even trying to read what it was saying. His lack of focus was apparently clear to his fellow Warblers, because when Jeff got up to put back the book he had been studying, he casually shoved another paper under Blaine's notebook.

_Thinking of Kurt? ;p_

Blaine sighed. He was indeed thinking of Kurt, but not because of the reasons his friends were apparently assuming. What was worrying Blaine was his dad, or better, the relationship between his dad and Kurt. Ever since he had come home Michael Anderson had been very welcoming towards Kurt, and the two seemed to get along pretty good. Too good even, as far as Blaine was concerned. He knew the mask his dad was wearing all too well, and last year he had experienced first hand what happened when it came off - much to his misfortune. He wasn't willing to put Kurt through the same ordeal, especially not after what he had already been through the last couple of months. The only question was... how could he convince Kurt not to get too close with his dad?

-o0o-

"Are you really sure you want me to come along?"

Mercedes was looking at Kurt questioningly. They had just finished glee club for the day and everybody was slowly packing their things. Nobody was leaving yet, though, as they were all still lingering around their substitute teacher, each looking for their own excuse to talk to her.

"Of course I do! You wanted to meet him, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah, but... I don't want to interrupt anything that's going on between the two of you."

"There's nothing going on between the two of us!" Kurt tried to look indignant, but Mercedes smiled knowingly and nudged his shoulder.

"Oh come on... I see the stars in your eyes when you talk about him. Well, that and his picture inside your locker."

"It's not like that! It's just nice to have someone to talk to. Someone like me."

Kurt added the last statement quickly, as he saw Mercedes' eyes darken. "But anyway, you need to come, I owe you."

"Damn sure you do!" Mercedes's inner diva showed. "You bailed on me _twice_ this week for that guy."

"Who are you two talking about?" Rachel interrupted them before Kurt could apologize.

"Blaine. Kurt and I are having drinks with him tonight at Breadstix."

"That's The Warblers' captain, right?"

"No." Kurt felt the familiar annoyance that seemed to be his standard reaction to Rachel Berry sticking her nose in his business. "But he's the lead soloist, yes."

"I see. Well, as co-captain of our glee club, I feel it is my duty to know who our competition is. Finn!" she shouted at her boyfriend, "We're going to Breadstix with Kurt tonight to meet Blaine!"

It was hard to say who was most baffled: Kurt or Finn. But they barely had time to react, because the whole glee club had heard Rachel's comment and their reaction was immediate.

Santana decided she couldn't pass on the opportunity of trying out all the gay jokes that had been running around in her head ever since they found out they were competing against The Warblers, and of course Brittany had to be her wing-woman. Artie refused to let Brittany meet an apparently hot guy (even though he was gay), Tina refused to let anyone else push Artie's chair, and Mike was glued onto Tina. Quinn didn't want to be the only girl left behind, and Sam didn't want to leave _her_. Which only left Puck who by now had no choice but to follow his fellow glee clubbers. And so Mercedes and Kurt were left standing in the choir room while their friends took matters into their own hands and went ahead to Breadstix.

"Shouldn't you two get going? I hear you have an important date."

Miss Holliday winked at them as she was collecting the sheet music. Kurt looked at Mercedes, who was chuckling, and rolled his eyes.

"How on earth am I going to explain this to Blaine?"

-o0o-

_From: Blaine A.  
>To: Kurt H.<br>Sent: November 18 2010 17:54:19  
>Almost there. Looking for a parking spot. B<em>

_ From: Kurt H.  
>To: Blaine A.<br>Sent: November 18 2010 17:56:07  
>Okay, I'll come out to meet you. K<em>

It was drizzling outside so Kurt was standing close to the door, waiting, when he saw Blaine's car turn onto the parking lot. He followed Blaine with his eyes as he got out of his car and hurried towards Kurt.

"Hey Kurt!"

They shared an awkward moment when Blaine leaned in to greet Kurt with a kiss on the cheek, while Kurt held out his hand, and an equally awkward moment one second later when they switched roles, Blaine trying to take Kurt's now disappeared hand and Kurt leaning in. They finally settled for hands, and Kurt looked at Blaine as he turned around to push the door.

"Eh, Blaine? It's not just gonna be the three of us-"

Blaine didn't seem disturbed. "Did Mercedes bring a friend? Cause that's fine, Kurt, don't worry, I d-"

The lead Warbler stopped mid-sentence as they arrived at the boot occupied by the entirety of New Directions. They were collectively looking at Blaine, who felt a sudden sympathy for the monkeys in the zoo as he slowly turned to Kurt.

"Mercedes brought... _a..._ friend?"

Kurt smiled apologetically. "Blaine... meet the New Directions."

.

Blaine sat squeezed between Santana and Rachel, slightly taken aback by the collective energy of Kurt's fellow glee club members. If Nick and Jeff had cloned themselves and brought their twin sisters, it would have been a quiet evening compared to the chaos he was now the center of, he was sure. Each and everyone of the New Directions seemed to want a piece of him, with the possible exceptions of the guy in the wheelchair (Artie, was it?) and a platina-blonde kid who made Blaine's gaydar go crazy - both of whom were trying very hard to keep two of the girls from talking to him.

"So you have no girls at all at Dalton?"

"Who does the song selection for the Warblers?"

"I don't understand how the teachers tell you apart if you all wear the same clothes."

Kurt slowly let himself slide down in his seat, feeling so much second hand embarrassment for his friends he wasn't quite sure how he would ever recover. This was definitely not the way he had imagined his evening with Blaine and Mercedes, and he was almost glad when Puck started sharing the story of his latest conquest.

"Seriously, so I took this girl on a second date, I mean, how much more serious can I get? And she still refused to put out! So I was like, what's the problem, baby?"

Santana snickered. "What's the problem-"

"I don't know", Brittany replied.

"-well, maybe I'm in love."

"LOVE!"

Brittany squealed, and Rachel took over, singing now.

"_Thinking 'bout it every time, I think about it, can't stop thinking 'bout it._"

Puck sat dumbfounded, but Finn and Mike had understood what the girls were trying to initiate and jumped up, singing alternately while taking their respective girlfriends by the hand.

_How much longer will it take to cure this  
>Just to cure it 'cause I can't ignore it if it's love - LOVE<br>Makes me wanna turn around and face me  
>But I don't know nothing about love, o-oh<em>

Santana and Brittany had jumped on the table of the neighboring boot and were now grabbing hands, twirling around each other.

_Come on, come on  
>Turn a little faster<br>Come on, come on  
>The world will follow after<br>Come on, come on  
>'Cause everybody's after love<em>

By now, all New Directions (well, all except Artie) were on their feet, dancing on couches and tables, while Blaine remained in the boot, eyes wide open, looking at the spontaneous performance unfolding around him. Artie pulled Brittany in his lap and Sam wrapped his arms around Quinn as they belted out the next verse.

_So I said "I'm a snowball running"  
>Running down into the spring that's coming all this love - LOVE<br>Melting under blue skies belting out  
>Sunlight, shimmering love<em>

_Well baby I surrender to the strawberry ice cream  
>Never ever end of all this LOVE<br>Well I didn't mean to do it  
>But there's no escaping your love, o-oh<em>

Kurt was singing the last verse to no-one in particular, but his eyes caught Blaine's as he sang the last phrase, and he felt his stomach drop.

_These lines of lightning mean we're never alone  
>Never alone - no, no<em>

Blaine looked away to Puck and Finn who were jumping from table to table, trying to escape an angry waitress, but Kurt didn't catch any of that. Everything around him seemed to fall away as he had his eyes fixed on Blaine.

_Come on, come on  
><em>_Move a little closer  
><em>_Come on, come on  
><em>_I want to hear you whisper  
><em>_Come on, come on  
><em>_Settle down inside my love_

It was the smile that wasn't limited to his mouth, but lit up his whole face. It was his hair, curly and untamed under the mass amount of hair gel. It was his uniform, that hugged him tightly, accentuating his shoulders and waist. It was the kindness he had shown Kurt when he had felt lost and alone. It was everything he was.

_Come on, come on  
><em>_Jump a little higher  
><em>_Come on, come on  
><em>_If you feel a little lighter  
><em>_Come on, come on  
><em>_We were once upon a time in love_

And Kurt realized what Mercedes had seen for weeks now: Blaine was more than a friend to him.

_We're accidentally in love  
><em>_Accidentally in love  
><em>_Accidentally in love  
><em>_Accidentally in love_

_Accidentally  
><em>_I'm in love, I'm in love  
><em>_I'm in love, I'm in love  
><em>_I'm in love, I'm in love_

Finally, he let himself be dragged away by Tina, spinning around as the whole of the glee club was now jumping around, singing.

_Come on, come on  
><em>_Spin a little tighter  
><em>_Come on, come on  
><em>_And the world's a little brighter  
><em>_Come on, come on  
><em>_Just get yourself inside the  
><em>_Love, I'm in love_

A round of applause rose up from the customers around them. All New Directions members were now returning slowly to their own boot, apologizing to the people on whose tables they had danced, but all the while laughing and patting each other on the back.

"How many times do I have to tell you kids not to dance on the furniture!"

Their trusted waitress Sandy pretended to lash out with her towel at Puck, who easily evaded getting hit, and blew her a kiss instead. And although Blaine was sure the waitress would deny it when asked, he could've sworn a small smile was playing around her lips.

-o0o-

"You didn't think The Warblers were the only ones throwing impromptu performances, now, did you?"

They were walking to their cars, getting ready to head home.

Blaine grinned. "No... although I have to admit I didn't think you'd do it in a restaurant."

Kurt smiled sheepishly.

"We don't have the luxury of supportive school mates so we-"

His voice faltered as he caught sight of something -or rather, someone- behind Blaine. Blaine turned around, and saw three tall, broad-shouldered guys wearing the red jacket of the McKinley High School football team heading towards the entrance of the restaurant they had just left. One of them stayed behind a bit as he caught sight of Kurt, and Blaine recognized him as Dave Karofsky, the jock he had tried to confront about kissing Kurt the week before. He had turned around just in time to see Karofsky put a finger against his lips and then draw an imaginary line along his throat with his thumb.

"Kurt?"

He looked back at the countertenor who had turned white as a sheet in a matter of seconds, looking terrified as he stumbled back into his car.

"Kurt? Kurt, what's going on?"

"Nothing." It came out too fast, too high-pitched, and too frightened.

"That wasn't nothing. Kurt, you're shaking!"

"No. I have to go home, we have to-"

Kurt turned to leave but Blaine grabbed his elbow, pulling him towards him. Kurt winced painfully, but Blaine ignored it, forcing the boy to look him in the eyes.

"Kurt! Don't lie to me! That guy was threatening you!"

Kurt looked up at Blaine, his eyes begging him to let it go, but Blaine didn't waver, demanding an answer. And Kurt gave in.

"Last week... after..."

"After he kissed you?"

Kurt nodded, but seemed hesitant to continue.

"What is it, Kurt? What didn't you tell me?"

A deep breath.

"He told me... if I would tell..."

Kurt paused, unsure, looking in himself for what he had lost but finding it in Blaine's eyes instead. Courage.

"... he threatened to kill me."

* * *

><p><strong><span>Song<span>: Accidentally in love - Counting Crows**

**So much going on in a week, so little words to capture it all! It sometimes feels like I'm rushing things because I'm trying to write one chapter per Glee episode (which covers a whole week). Also, I'm still following canon!Glee storyline, which might take away from the tension, since you kinda know what's gonna happen...**** Not sure how these things come across for you guys? Either way, ****I hope you won't slaughter me for the New Directions' song, I had an inverse Blackbird-moment in my head and absolutely wanted to include it.**

**Also, welcome to all you new readers! The number of hits, favorites and story alerts essentially doubled after publishing the last chapter, it was a blessing to wake up to! Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it, and let me know what you think of the new installment!**


	6. A chance

As soon as they arrived home, Kurt headed for his room, visibly upset. He hadn't said a word since they had left principal Sylvester's office and Mrs. Anderson looked worried as she watched him run up the stairs.

"Do you think I should-"

She didn't continue her sentence when she saw her son shake his head.

"It's ok, mom. Let me go and talk with him."

Blaine clenched his fists as he made his way towards Kurt's room. He wasn't quite sure what to say - after all, the meeting with principal Sylvester hadn't gone quite the way he had hoped it would. At Dalton, when a student as much as _felt_ threatened by another student, a meeting would be issued with the students, their parents, and the school board. Nobody would leave the room until a solution was found that was acceptable to everyone involved, and measures would be taken to ensure the situation would not arise again. At McKinley, however, things seemed to work differently.

It had started promising enough, though. When Mrs. Anderson had contacted principal Sylvester after Blaine had told her about Kurt's bullying, a meeting had been issued, and to Blaine's delight immediate action had even been taken: Karofsky had been suspended for the rest of the week. But things started to go downhill from there, because as soon as it became apparent that there had been no physical abuse -being shoved into lockers 'accidentally' didn't count-, the school board hadn't seen any reason to expel Karofsky or even extend the suspension. Basically, Kurt had been told that what he had been going through was not bad enough for consequences to be justified. Oh, and to 'man up'. It was enough to upset anyone, and Blaine wasn't planning on leaving Kurt alone on a moment like this.

.

When he first knocked on Kurt's door, he didn't receive a reply. But when he lifted his hand to knock again, he noticed the door wasn't locked and slowly pushed it open.

"Kurt?"

Kurt was standing in front of the window, looking out over the garden. His shoulders were visibly tensed, but when he turned around to face Blaine, there were no tears in his eyes. Instead, they were blazing, and the fire was directed at Blaine.

"How could you do this to me?" Kurt shouted. "How could you just tell everybody?"

Blaine was stunned. He had walked in expecting having to comfort Kurt but suddenly found himself at the receiving end of the full power of Kurt's fury.

"Kurt... Kurt, I..."

"I trusted you! I trusted you and you just went and told _everybody_! You had no right, Blaine, no right!"

Kurt was screaming, shaking on his feet, his voice cracking with anger, and Blaine tried to regain control of his thoughts as he stood paralyzed, trying to understand what it was that Kurt was accusing him of.

"I only told them about that kid... _harassing_ you! I didn't tell them anything about the kiss or... the threat..." Blaine said desperately.

"Trust me, if you had, we wouldn't even be having a conversation now."

"I was just trying to help!"

"Well, don't!" Kurt snapped. His face was flushed and tears started streaming down his face as he could no longer contain his emotions.

"This is my battle to fight, mine and mine alone, and I don't want you, or anyone else, to get involved in this!"

"Stop doing that!"

"Doing what?"

Blaine stepped closer to Kurt, his arms open, palms facing upwards.

"This! Pushing people away! Pretending like it's no big deal, like you can handle it alone."

"I _can_ handle it alone."

"No, you can't!" Blaine exasperated. "Kurt, this is so much bigger than yourself! You can't do this alone!"

"I thought you said I was strong?" Kurt looked at Blaine defiantly. "What happened to 'You can refuse to be the victim' and 'You're stronger than you think'? What happened to that? Or was that a lie?"

"Of course not!" Blaine pleaded. "I meant what I said - you are strong, Kurt, you're one of the strongest, most courageous people I've ever met. But there's only so much a person can handle before they break, and the situation with Karofsky was just getting out of hand! There is no shame in asking for help."

"And look how that turned out, ha? What do you think will happen when Karofsky returns to school on Monday? Now he will not only hate me for me being me, he'll also be pissed off I got him suspended for a week, and things will be worse than ever."

"We'll figure something out!" Blaine tried to sound confident, although even he could tell it really sounded hollow. "I'll talk to my mom and we'll figure something out. We'll keep you safe, Kurt, I promise, that Karofsky kid won't be able to hurt you any more than he already has."

But Kurt shook his head, holding up his hands.

"Don't, Blaine, just... don't. I understand you were trying to help, but let's keep it at that. You've messed up my life enough as it is."

Kurt turned his back on Blaine and sat down on the couch, grabbing his laptop in a clear 'just-get-out-I-want-to-be-alone-now' gesture. Blaine hesitated, but decided to ignore the signal and sat down next to Kurt.

"Kurt, please... I know how you feel, I've been there. Just let me h-"

"No!" Kurt looked down on his hands in his lap before he took a deep breath and turned to boy sitting next to him. "No, Blaine. No no no. You don't have a clue how I feel, you don't have a clue how it is to be the only openly gay kid at school. You've been there for me when I was having a hard time, and I really appreciate that - but I obviously cannot trust you."

Blaine opened his mouth to protest, but Kurt didn't give him the chance to say anything.

"Blaine, please - I tell you one thing in confidence, and next thing I know I'm sitting in a confined space with my bully less than 10 feet away from me, your mom and coach Sylvester arguing over my head over what should and should not be done now. You've been a good friend, but you can't just go and make decisions for me about how I should handle my problems. You barely even know me and you're treating me like I'm your little brother who-"

"Because you _are_! Can't you see?" Blaine moved a little closer to Kurt, putting his hand on the other boy's arm. "I know you have your own family, and believe me, neither me nor my mother want to replace that or take that away from you. But we're your family as well now, and we care for you too. You're my brother, Kurt, and I don't want you to go through what I had to go through. So yes, if I think you're in trouble, if I think you need help, then I'll tell my mom, I'll tell your Principal, I'll tell the fucking president if I have to! And if you want to be angry with me for that, then fine, be angry. But I won't let anyone tear you down for no reason at all, I won't sit around and watch you die inside a little more every day because some moron is too stupid to realize what a beautiful person you are."

Kurt looked down at Blaine's hand which was still laying on his arm, and he became suddenly aware of how close the other boy was sitting to him. His eyes trailed along Blaine's arm and shoulder to his face, and he felt his stomach flutter as he caught Blaine's eyes.

A brother. Blaine saw him as a brother. The momentary happiness that statement brought him -Blaine _cared_ about him!- fled as he realized what this meant. For the second year in a row, he was in love with his brother...

"So I'm sorry if you feel like I've betrayed your trust, if you feel I acted behind your back,. That was not my intention, and I hope you'll give me the chance to show you that I am worthy of your trust. But I really think like I did the right thing in telling my mother about Karofsky, and I promise you we won't give up here. We _will_ find a way to help you."

Blaine took away his hand and Kurt felt the cold spot where it had lain on his arm burn. He didn't look when Blaine stood up and walked to the door, and he wasn't even sure the boy would hear him when he finally spoke.

"I'm sorry."

Kurt fumbled with his hands in his lap, trying to find the right words.

"It's just... I'm so used to dealing with all this on my own. My dad's cool and all that, but he never really... _got _it. _Gets_ it," he corrected himself, feeling that using the past tense when talking about his dad was nothing short of declaring him dead.

"And having other people discuss my problems...," he looked up apologetically. "I know you mean it well, Blaine, but your mother is still kind of a stranger to me, and suddenly she seems to have all this power over what's happening to me. It... it just made me feel like I lost all control, nobody seemed to bother to listen to what _I_ thought of it."

In three strides, Blaine was back on the couch with Kurt, grabbing his hands.

"No! Kurt... of course we care about how you feel about this! And we would never take a decision without talking it through with you first. But you need to realize that you're not alone, that there's no shame in asking for help if things grow too big for you to handle. That's all we were trying to do - help."

Kurt managed a faint smile.

"Thank you."

"You're very welcome."

And before Kurt could protest, Blaine wrapped his arms around the boy.

Kurt wasn't a very touchy-feeling person, and his first instinct was to just pull away. But then he remembered. This was _Blaine_ hugging him. Blaine who cared about him, who considered him a brother. Blaine who he was in love with. And he allowed himself to relax, to enjoy the feel of the strong arms wrapped around him, the scent of shampoo and hair gel, the simple presence of someone he could... trust? The thought came naturally to him, and as he considered it he discovered that yes, despite what had happened, despite Blaine telling Mrs. Anderson about the bullying, Kurt still trusted him. Maybe he didn't trust him to always do what Kurt wanted, but he did trust him to act in whatever way he considered best for Kurt. And that was something, Kurt thought, that was perhaps worth even more.

-o0o-

Mrs. Anderson turned away from the door when she saw the two boys hug. She hadn't doubted she could count on Blaine to comfort Kurt, but when she had heard their voices raise she had needed to check on them. Secretly, she was proud of Blaine and the way he had handled the situation, but right now, she had other things to do than compliment her son: some phone calls needed to be made.

-o0o-

"I won't allow it!"

The man was almost shrieking, his face beet red as he smashed his fist on the table. The woman across the room shuddered at the sudden bang, but forced herself to stay calm.

"It's my money. And I will spend it as I please." There was a confidence in her voice that surprised even herself.

"On a kid you don't even know! A... a...," he wasn't looking for the right word, he was struggling to actually say it. He didn't manage. "One of _those_ kids! I've never interfered with that charity obsession of yours, but this is going too far! You're gonna ruin every bit of spine he's ever had, just like you did with your own son!"

He spit out the words as if they were physically hurting him, and looked at his wife. She didn't say anything, afraid it might make matters even worse. Inwardly she was grateful the boys were still at school, because the tension in the room was so dense she was pretty sure even the tiniest spark would be sufficient to make everything explode. So when the man finally turned around and left the room, slamming the door behind him, she simply let herself fall on the floor in relief. Silent tears ran down her cheeks as she sat there, trying to calm down. She had no idea how long she had been sitting there when a pair of soft, solid hands helped her up. The man was smaller than she was, but he showed surprising strength as he supported her to her bedroom.

"Come on... let's get you to bed... ."

-o0o-

"You... _what_?"

Kurt sat dumbfounded on the couch. It was Thursday evening and he had been called downstairs by Blaine because Mrs. Anderson had wanted to discuss something with them. Right now, she was sitting across from him, smiling, looking calm and distinguished as usual, and not at all as if she had just proposed to pay for Kurt's tuition at Dalton if he didn't want to return to McKinley after the weekend.

"You can't do that!"

Mrs. Anderson... chuckled?

"I assure you, Kurt, I most definitely can."

"But... but... that's like... I mean... a _lot_ of money."

But his foster mother shook her head.

"A hovercraft is a lot of money. An original Van Gogh is a lot of money. A seat on the space shuttle is a lot of money. Tuition at Dalton is quite affordable, actually. Of course, the kids in Somalia will have to wait a bit longer for their potable water," she winked when she saw the shocked look on Kurt's face, "but I'm sure we can work something out."

Kurt was still speechless. Blaine had told him about the non-bullying policy at Dalton and Kurt had to admit, the thought of transferring there had crossed his mind. The idea of being able to walk to classes without having to look over his shoulder, of not worrying whether his outfit would instigate more laughter and insults, ... it had been very appealing. But it had been a fleeting thought, one he had tried to forget about as quickly as possible, ashamed for even considering to run away from his problems and leave all his friends behind. Either way, there was no chance his dad was able to pay for it, and even if he had been, the current situation was such that Kurt had no access to his dad's funds.

But now Mrs. Anderson was offering to let him transfer. She was offering him the possibility to go to school without being scared, without being taunted, without being confronted on a daily basis with something he couldn't do anything about. She was offering him a new life, and he seriously doubted she even understood the enormity of what she was actually proposing.

Still... he couldn't accept.

"No," he said, after taking a deep breath, "no. I appreciate the offer, and you have to believe me this is the most wonderful thing anyone has ever wanting to give me, but I cannot accept it. It's too big. It's too much. I'm already staying at your house, eating your food, wearing your clothes, ... you have done so much for me already, I cannot possibly accept more."

"Do you really want to return to McKinley?"

Blaine, sitting on his right, sounded incredulous.

"I can't just leave all my friends behind," Kurt evaded the question.

"Of course you can!" Blaine seemed a bit taken aback at the fierceness of his own reaction, but continued, calmer. "I mean... this is not about your friends, Kurt. This is about you."

"Blaine... you're the one who told me that your biggest regret was that you let your bullies chase you away. I don't want to have the same regret."

"I regret letting them chase me away _without a fight_. I regret just giving in when life became a bit hard. I regret running away from them without even trying to stand up. You have stood up, you have fought. But there is no bravery in fighting a lost battle."

Blaine moved to the tip of his chair, reaching out for Kurt's hands and Kurt felt his skin burn where Blaine touched him.

"Please Kurt... I ask you to consider this. If you truly want to stay with your friends, if you really want to return to McKinley on Monday, I will not stop you, and we will find another way for you to be safe." Blaine paused to look at his mother, who gave him an encouraging nod, and he continued. "But I need you to know that what me and my mum are offering is not charity. It's not pity. We care about you, Kurt. And we want to help. So if there is only a fraction of you that believes you could be happier at Dalton... please... reconsider... don't be too proud to accept."

A single tear rolled over Kurt's cheek and fell on their entwined hands. Blaine gave them a gentle squeeze, and when Kurt looked up, he found nothing but kindness, and encouragement, in those eyes. And deep inside, Kurt knew what he wanted most of all. Only...

"It's the middle of the year. And exams are coming up. Who says I can even enroll in Dalton right now?"

"I've been in touch with the headmaster," Mrs. Anderson said, "if you agree to do some assignments and projects over Christmas break, they could let you skip some of the exams now, so you can divide the workload. You'll still have to do them after the holidays, of course."

"And I still got my books from last year, so I can help you catch up and stuff," Blaine added.

"You really got it all figured out, don't you?"

Kurt smiled, and was rewarded with a wink.

"Well, we had to check if the option was viable before we got your hopes up, didn't we?"

There was nothing to be said about that, and the three of them remained silent. Mrs. Anderson was smiling patiently, while Blaine sat looking at Kurt, outwardly calm although his eyes betrayed a mixture of emotions. Kurt himself was still trying to comprehend what was happening. He would never have to see Karofsky again. He would never be teased again, or feel people stare and point, whispering behind his back. He would go to school with Blaine... and even though he knew they probably wouldn't share classes, they could drive to school together, eat together at lunch breaks, ... . And he could barely wait.

"Well... then I guess I better prepare for my last day at McKinley tomorrow."

It was hard to say which of the three was smiling broader.

-o0o-

Kurt felt his heart sink as he left the choir room. His announcement that he would be leaving McKinley and transfer to Dalton had left everyone as struck by lightning, but Kurt didn't want to stay to further explain. If anyone had the power to persuade him to stay, it was his friends from glee club, and he really didn't want to be persuaded. And thus he had kept it short.

He was just emptying his locker when he felt someone approach him, and he turned around to find Finn standing next to him, looking awkward as always.

"Yes, Finn?"

Kurt looked up at the tall quarterback, who was fiddling nervously with the strap of his bag.

"So... you're really leaving, ha?"

"Yes. I'm really leaving."

"To that... other school." Finn's words came slow, with long pauses in between.

"Dalton. They have a non-bullying policy. I will be safe there."

"That's good. I mean-" Finn hurried to correct himself, "it's not good that you're leaving, I mean, it's good for you, because you'll be safe, but it would be good if you would stay, too, you know, I mean-"

"Finn." Kurt interrupted his former step brother, who was obviously getting himself stuck in his own reasoning again. "It's okay. I understand."

"Oh. Okay." Finn seemed relieved. "But... at least you won't be alone. You will have that other kid, right? The bird one?"

"Blaine. My foster brother." It sounded strange, saying it out loud, but Kurt had to admit, it felt kinda good. Reassuring.

"Yes. And he's... like you. So that's good too."

"Blaine and I are both gay, if that's what you mean. And it's nice to have someone to talk to, yes."

Finn nodded, and a silence fell between them that was neither uncomfortable nor awkward. Then, suddenly, Finn seemed to remember something, and he reached for his bag. He got out a small parcel, packed in brown paper, and held it out to Kurt.

"Here. My mom. She... it's for you."

Kurt took the parcel, a bit surprised.

"Is this for my birthday? Because that's in March."

"No... it's... I've been carrying it around for some time now," Finn sounded slightly embarrassed, "but I always forgot to give it to you."

Kurt nodded as he ripped off the paper, revealing a book. Paulo Coelho. He couldn't read the title as there was a small post-it attached to the front, and Kurt felt tears coming up when he read it.

_"When you are sorrowful, look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight."  
><em>_Know that we are still here for you, Kurt. Stop by anytime.  
><em>_Carole._

He lifted the note. The Alchemist. He didn't know the author, nor the book, but he knew that if Carole had given it to him, it had to be meaningful. He smiled up at Finn.

"Thank you."

Finn didn't say anything, but simply nodded and gave Kurt an awkward smile as he turned to leave.

"Finn!"

Kurt wasn't sure what it was that he wanted to say when Finn turned around and looked at him questioningly, but the words came naturally.

"Would you... and Carole... want to come visit my dad this weekend?"

Finn seemed surprised, but happily so.

"Yeah... yeah, that... I think I'd like that. And my mom too. Thanks."

Kurt smiled back at him, feeling strangely accomplished, as he threw his bag over his shoulder and closed his now empty locker for the last time.

"I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Ok. And Kurt?"

The countertenor looked up.

"Good luck. We'll miss you."

* * *

><p><strong>Alright! This is where the scary part begins... not much canon to guide me in Dalton! I wonder what Kurt's first day will be like... Oh, and I know they have been fiddling with Blaine's age, but in here, to me, Kurt's a sophomore and Blaine's a junior. Makes so much more sense to me.<strong>

**I hope there's not too many errors left in this chapter - it's late and I'm lazy ;) - please forgive me. Also, I got the remark that I use some non-American words etc. (I changed mum to mom now). I do apologize, this is the disadvantage of reading a fic by a non-native speaker, I'm afraid. I try my best, but if there are things that are just way out of line, please tell me! Of course, if you like it, you can tell me as well ;). See you next time!**


	7. I'm new here, too

"Hi dad!"

A slender, brown-haired boy entered the room. He dropped his school bag next to the bed and pressed a soft kiss on the forehead of his father.

"Hello, Kurt! Don't you look dashing today?"

Kurt smiled at the nurse who had just entered the room and put his hands in his sides, twirling to show off his brand new outfit.

"My new uniform."

The nurse raised her eyebrows questioningly as she checked his father's IV.

"I've transferred," he explained, "to Dalton Academy. It was my first day today."

"Ooh, how exciting for you!"

The woman turned around and smiled when she saw the look of joy on Kurt's face.

"And was it a good first day?"

Kurt nodded and beamed. "Very good."

-o0o-

_There were three quick knocks on the door._

_"Come in!" Kurt shouted, without turning around._

_Blaine entered the room, and couldn't help but smile at the sight before him. Kurt was standing in front of a high mirror in the Dalton uniform, preening himself extensively. There hadn't been time to buy a uniform of his own, so for now he had been given one of Blaine's spare uniforms. It was slightly too small, and Kurt kept turning and twisting, trying in vain to adjust his sleeves to make them fit._

_"Ready to go?"_

_Kurt looked sideways and sighed._

_"I guess... but I really have to get used to this uniform. This blazer... it's stiff, and quite frankly, the cut is _so_ 'new millennium'. We're 2010!"_

_Blaine chuckled and moved behind Kurt. He put his hands on Kurt's shoulders, and squeezed them lightly. _

_"It's not fashion school you're attending, Kurt. The uniform's just a part of the deal. And besides...", Blaine leaned in and dropped his voice, "you know you love that blazer."_

_A shiver ran down Kurt's spine and he closed his eyes, willing himself to calm down, hoping Blaine wouldn't notice his flushed cheeks. It seemed he didn't, because his foster brother straightened himself and patted Kurt on his shoulder:_

_"Come on, let's get you to your first day of school."_

.

"We drove to school together, and Blaine showed me the shortcuts - he says traffic can be crazy on the 33 and especially the 68, so it's best to avoid those in the mornings... . It still took us over an hour to get there."

Kurt paused for a second, looking at the immobile man on the bed.

"I was so nervous, dad... I mean, I know I'm not stupid but... what if I screw up? What if I'm not smart enough? What if I fail and I have to quit and return to McKinley and then everything will be even worse then before? And Mrs. A... she would be so disappointed..."

.

_"_Nobody_ is going to be disappointed, Kurt. You'll do fine."_

_Kurt was still sitting in the car, stiff and immobile, as if he was glued to his seat. He shook his head violently, breathing quickly._

_"No. I'll screw up. They'll hate me. Oh my god, what if they hate me?"_

_He looked at Blaine, eyes wide open in fear, but the other boy simply tilted his head sideways, raising an eyebrow._

_"Don't be silly, nobody's gonna hate you. Now will you please get out of the car? People are watching... ."_

_Blaine reached out his hand, and Kurt took it, hesitantly - but as he climbed out of the car, he felt his breath choke._

_He remembered feeling slightly intimidated when he had first seen the Anderson's house, but that was nothing compared to the awe he felt at that moment, looking up at the main building of Dalton Academy. It was a tall, old, ivy-covered building which, in a distant way, made him think of Hogwarts. The comparison brought a slight smile to his face. In some way, he thought, he was very much like Harry. They both had been made miserable all their lives by people who didn't like them, simply because they were different. And they both had gotten the chance to start anew, to go to a school where tolerance and acceptance weren't merely empty words, but the very foundation of its community. Kurt only hoped Dalton could mean even half as much to him as Hogwarts had meant to Harry._

_He looked at all the students arriving and making their way to the entrance. They smiled and shook hands as they found each other, exchanging exciting stories of their past weekend on their way to class. He thought of his friends at McKinley's glee club, each and every single one of whom had send him a text to wish him good luck on his first day. He thought of Mrs. Anderson, who had given him this chance. He thought of his father, at the hospital, and wondered what he would say if he could've seen his son now._

Kurt Hummel, you go show them.

_Kurt straightened his shoulders, picked up his bag and without even looking to see if Blaine was following, he started to make his way towards the entrance._

.

"They usually assign a junior student to each newcomer, and since Blaine already knew me, he was allowed to be my mentor." Kurt told his dad while he was arranging a new bouquet on the bedside table. "So he was allowed to skip his classes in the morning and showed me around. The school's huge, they have their own swimming pool and even a gym - although why anyone would want to spend their lunch break on a home trainer or an elliptical is beyond me. There's a large park around the school as well, I think that will be great in spring..."

Kurt took a step back, eyeing his arrangement critically and making some minor adjustments before continuing.

"And then there was a lot of administration to be taken care of: getting a parking spot, a locker, visit the tailor for my uniform, a scholarship application, and of course the guidance counselor, to sort out my curriculum." He turned to look at his dad indignantly. "They had me drop Home Economics, can you imagine that? No Home Economics at Dalton! Who is going to teach those boys how to make a perfect crême brulée? They suggested I take Home Maintenance instead, but honestly, I can't imagine them being able to teach me something about wielding a drill you haven't taught me."

He chuckled.

"We finally settled on Drafting. As it happens, Blaine is taking the same course, I'm sure that will be fun... ."

.

_"You're gonna regret taking Drafting," Blaine warned him, "Mr. Burken is a... determined teacher."_

_But Kurt sent him an indignant look._

_"My dearest Blaine, I grew up in a garage. I was reading line symbols before I could spell."_

_Blaine opened his mouth to reply, but finally thought the better of it: after all, it was only Kurt's first day, and he needed all the confidence he could get. Instead, he took his foster brother by the elbow and pulled him to a small corridor and through a couple of doors. Suddenly, the noise surrounding them was deafening._

_They were standing in a large hall, filled with tables, chairs and what appeared to be an army of starving boys. On his left, Kurt could see a couple of vending machines containing soft drinks and right in front of him was a long queue of boys who were waiting to get one of the 4 hot meals that were apparently served that day. Even from where he was standing Kurt could tell the quality of the food was much higher than what he was used to at McKinley's but when he turned to remark on this to Blaine he suddenly found himself standing alone. A wave of panic came over him while his eyes darted over the room, trying to single out Blaine's blue blazer out of the hundreds of others that were there, until he finally caught sight of him standing across the room, and quickly made his way towards the table._

_"There you are, where did you disappear to all of a sudden?" Blaine gestured with his arm around him. "Kurt, let me introduce you to some of my fellow Warblers: Jeff, Nick, Trent, Thad, and of course you've met David and Wes."_

_Kurt decided to ignore the fact that it was Blaine who had disappeared on _him_ rather than the other way around, and instead smiled to the group of boys that was sitting around the table and was now looking up at him expectantly. Clinging to the strap of his bag, he managed a little wave before he gathered his courage._

_"Hello. I'm Kurt."_

.

"Most of them seemed very friendly, and they've even invited me to audition for the Warblers - which I think is really nice, since Sectionals are in a couple of weeks already. They seem really tight, though... I mean, they were very welcoming and all, and I'm sure they won't start talking behind my back or something like that. It's just, they've known each other for so long already, and I just don't know if... if I'll fit in, you know what I mean?"

Burt Hummel didn't reply. His blood pressure remained at the same level, and his heart rate kept the same, steady pace it had been at for almost two months now. Nothing indicated that he had even heard his son, but Kurt didn't mind. He wasn't looking for answers - what he needed was someone to talk to, to bounce his thoughts to.

"But it appears I won't see much of Blaine aside from Drafting and the occasional commute together... you wouldn't believe how busy he is! Everybody seems to know him. All the while during lunch, every couple of minutes there would be someone coming to talk to him, ask him something, or give him some paper, or even just say hi. As far as I can tell he's in Speech and Debate, the Chess Club, the Math Society and the School Paper. And that's not even the end of it."

.

_"Alright guys... we better get going - the next period is starting in 15 minutes."_

_Blaine shove his chair back and stood up, and the other boys followed his example quickly, collecting their plates and cups to return them to the kitchen._

_"Hey Blaine!"_

_Kurt looked over his shoulder to see Kyle making his way towards them, and he waited with Blaine until the boy had reached them. Kyle gave Kurt a small nod in recognition, but immediately turned his attention to Blaine._

_"Joining for a ride after school?"_

_But Blaine shook his head, pointing at Kurt with his thumb._

_"I can't. We drove together today, so I'll be driving him home right after school."_

_"That's a pity." Kyle frowned. "Elisabeth is finally getting better, she's looking forward to go outside after being locked in for a week. And Meryem is missing you, too."_

_"Excuse me," Kurt entered the conversation. "But who exactly are you talking about?"_

_He had no clue who these girls were, but somehow the idea of Blaine "going on a ride" with them and Kyle was very unsettling to him. Blaine, however, started laughing._

_"Lizzy and Meryem - they are two of the horses here at the Dalton stables. I haven't been... spending much time with them, lately, as Kyle has so subtly pointed out." Blaine gave Kyle a dark look, but the boy didn't seem to notice._

_"You ride horse?" Kurt blurted out. He was immediately ready to slap himself in the head. Of coúrse Blaine rode horse - Kurt had seen him come home in his horse-riding gear often enough, the smell that surrounded Blaine at such times was quite unmistakable. And hard to forget, to be honest._

_"I mean," he tried to recover himself, "you ride horse here at Dalton?"_

_"Are you kidding me?" Kyle patted Blaine on the shoulder with a broad grin. "He's our champ!"_

_The remark made Blaine visibly uneasy, although Kurt could tell that the implicit compliment did mean a lot to him, especially coming from Kyle. And was that a blush appearing on his cheeks? It made him look all the more adorable, Kurt thought._

_"Liar," Blaine tried to dismiss Kyle's remark. "You are the reigning champion now. And I'm done with competition - I have enough on my plate as it is, thank you very much."_

_"But that doesn't mean you can't enjoy a ride now and then, does it? You're still one of the best riders in Ohio, I'm sure Kurt would love a small demonstration? Maybe he would even like to join us?"_

_Kyle sounded sincere in his offer, but Blaine's reply came as quick as it was blunt._

_"I don't think he would."_

_There was a sudden edge to Blaine's voice, so subtle Kurt wasn't even sure he had heard it right, let alone what it meant. And although he wás curious to see Blaine ride (he wasn't so eager to have a go at it himself though, because, well, that sméll), Kurt didn't want to force him into anything he obviously didn't feel like._

_"I'd like to go visit my dad in the hospital after school, so today's not really a good day," he therefore said to Kyle apologetically, after a quick glance at Blaine, "but maybe some other time?"_

_Kyle didn't seem too happy by the lack of support for his idea from Kurt, but he took it in grace - he gave Kurt a stiff nod and threw his bag over his shoulder._

_"Some other time then. See you around, Blaine."_

_And with those words the senior stalked off in the other direction, leaving Kurt and Blaine standing in an almost empty dinner hall now._

_"Now would you mind explaining to me what thát was all about?" Kurt turned to Blaine._

_"Nothing."_

_Blaine grabbed his bag and made to leave the hall, but Kurt wasn't quite ready to drop the subject yet._

_"Blaine..."_

_It was just a name, but the tone in which it was said contained so much more: 'don't try to fool me'. The lead Warbler stopped, rubbing his forehead before turning around to face Kurt again._

_"It's nothing, alright? It's nothing. I used to do competition jumping with the Dalton Equestrian Club, but I quit last summer, something which Kyle seems to be incapable of accepting, and he just keeps bugging me about it. That's all."_

_"But you still ride?"_

_The answer was unwilling._

_"Not as much as I used to... but yes... sometimes I still ride."_

_"Just not jumping?_

_"That's what I said, right?" Blaine started to sound impatient. "Now if I remember correctly you have an Algebra class in 5 minutes - I don't suppose you want to be late for your first lecture here at Dalton, now do you?"_

_._

"-and he just left me standing there, dad, didn't even bother to show me to my classroom!"

Kurt shook his head, still not understanding quite why Blaine had suddenly become so agitated about something that was supposed to have been his hobby, something that he liked.

"There's something he's not telling me, I can feel it, but I'll figure it out. You know me, right?"

He winked at his dad, and then turned his attention to the heap of papers on his lap, containing the homework for Algebra, French, and Biology he had gotten that day. It was more than he usually got over a week back at McKinley, and although he knew that this was partly due to the fact that he had some catching up to do, he still wondered how Blaine managed to combine Dalton's academic workload with all his extracurricular activities. No wonder he had dropped competition jumping...

Kurt sighed and took his pen. He would be there until the nurse came to tell him visitor hour was over.

-o0o-

It was almost 10 when Kurt pulled the Anderson's front door behind him. To his surprise, the living room was strangely empty. Usually, around this time, Mrs. Anderson would be watching tv with Blaine sitting next to her on the couch, reading a book or finishing something for school. Most often Kevin would also be there, folding laundry or ironing. Today, however, the tv was off and the only person in the living room was Mr. Anderson, reading something what looked like a business magazine.

"Good evening, Mr. A."

There was no reply, which Kurt found odd - Mr. Anderson was usually very talkative, and surely he must have known it had been Kurt's first day at Dalton? He looked busy, though, and Kurt decided not to bother him and continued to the kitchen to have a glass of water before going to bed. When he turned on the kitchen light, however, he all but jumped - in the dark, he hadn't seen Blaine who apparently had been leaning against the fridge and was now squinting his eyes against the bright light.

"Blaine - what are you doing here in the dark?"

The other boy held up his glass.

"Getting a drink. Didn't want to draw my dad's attention by switching on the light."

"Oh. Sorry."

Blaine shrugged his shoulders, taking a sip from his glass, but remained silent.

"Is something bothering your dad?" Kurt asked, in a lower voice, "He seems preoccupied. Didn't even say hello."

It earned him a wry smile from Blaine.

"Yeah. Well. Better get used to that."

Kurt frowned, partly because he was not sure how he was supposed to take that last comment, but also because it seemed that Mr. Anderson wasn't the only one with things on his mind.

"Blaine? Is something bothering you?" Kurt asked carefully. "Is this about earlier? About the horse riding? Because I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I didn't mean to-"

"It's alright." Blaine emptied his glass, put it back on the counter and stood up. "If anything, I'm the one who should apologize. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that."

The apology sounded sincere, but Blaine didn't look at Kurt once, instead keeping his eyes on the ground. It wasn't until Kurt called his name as he was leaving the room, that he looked up.

"Blaine? You know that you can talk to me, right?"

A small smile appeared on Blaine's face, although it didn't reach his eyes. It only strengthened Kurt's conviction that there was something he didn't know. Yet.

"Maybe later. But thanks for the offer."

And with those words Blaine was out of the door, leaving Kurt alone with his thoughts.

* * *

><p><strong>... and with that, the hiatus should be over!<strong>

**I am very sorry you all had to wait this long. Basically, two things happened:**  
><strong>1) I got sick and was denied internet access for a month.<strong>  
><strong>2) I had gotten until the end of the story I had woken up with, and the inspiration that I had hoped would have come during writing, didn't show.<strong>

**But I've found my new arc, now I can only hope that you will keep liking my story! I do think I may have completely re-invented the American High School system (it's fecking complicated!) and no, I don't know the first thing about horse riding... you'll just have to live with the apparent inaccuracies though, this ís an AU story after all... ;).**

**I would also like to mention I do have a (poorly updated) Tumblr at aworldoflis, so if you are wondering about stuff or want to kick my ass about updates, that's the place to go ;). The idea is to have a biweekly update at least, and faster if I have the chance. In either case, I will probably finish the school year in this story, so it is long from over, if that can reassure you... .**

**As per usual, thanks for reading, the fact that I have an audience make writing so much more fun!**


	8. Thanksgiving

"_It's the big white house on the left,_" Kurt had told her. "_You'll see it when you get there._"

And damn - did she see it.

Mercedes took her bag and slammed the door of her car shut, feeling almost embarrassed about her little old VolksWagen as she looked up at the big, stately house in front of her.

"Kurt Hummel, you are one lucky bastard."

.

"Good afternoon?"

The woman opening the door was beautiful, Mercedes thought. Her long brown hair fell smoothly over her shoulders, and even though she didn't wear any make-up, she looked barely a day over 35. The simple elegance of her wide, black pants and white blouse flattered her figure exceptionally well, and while her choice of clothing was most likely her own, Mercedes was willing to bet the matching scarf around her neck was a touch of Kurt.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Anderson? I'm Mercedes Jones, I'm a fri-"

"Mercedes! You made it!"

Kurt came running down the large staircase two steps at a time. He looked particularly happy, Mercedes thought, and she smiled as he came up to her to kiss her hello.

"Mercedes, may I introduce you to Barbara Anderson? Mrs. A, this is Mercedes Jones, a friend from my old school. I told you I invited her over?"

Kurt's voice trailed as he said the last sentence, and he looked at Mrs. Anderson questioningly, suddenly not sure if he was actually allowed to have friends over. He should have known better.

"Of course!" Mrs. Anderson held out her hand to Mercedes, smiling broadly. "It's nice to finally meet you. Kurt has told me so much about you!"

Mercedes shot a questioning look at Kurt, who simply put his hands up in the air, as if to say 'only good things!', before he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her inside.

"Come on, let me show you my room!"

Mercedes was barely able to wave "Nice to meet you too!" at Mrs. Anderson before she let herself be dragged up the stairs by Kurt.

.

"This place is crazy!" she half-giggled, half-whispered to Kurt when they reached the top of the stairs, "Don't you ever get lost?"

"Plenty," Kurt assured her, "left here."

They turned around the corner and almost bumped into a man coming from the other direction. He was humming a song, but stopped abruptly when he saw the two teenagers in front of him.

"Mr. A," Kurt sounded surprised, but quickly regained himself. "Mr. A, this is Mercedes, a friend of my old school. She came over to visit."

Mr. Anderson's nod to Mercedes was only barely noticeable, and his voice remained level when he spoke.

"How nice for you, Kurt. I hope you have fun. Now, if you'll excuse me."

He easily side-stepped Kurt and Mercedes and continued towards the stairs, 2 pairs of eyes following him as he turned and disappeared from sight. It wasn't until they heard the door downstairs slam shut that they spoke again.

"What was thát?"

Mercedes looked at Kurt, ready to start giggling again, but her best friend threw his hands in the air, rolling his eyes.

"You know what, I don't even know - he's been grumpy all week. Although, between you and me," Kurt paused a moment, looking around to make sure they weren't overheard, "I think something may have happened between him and Mrs. A... they've been giving each other the silent treatment since last Saturday, and he's been curt and distant to Blaine and me as well. I mean, he's generally not very affectionate towards Blaine, but to me-"

"I thought you said he was a nice guy?"

"He totally is! Blaine is always saying he's a hypocrite with two faces, but I think he's a very intelligent, liberal man. He's very well-read too - I told you about the discussion we had on Dickens' Great Expectations, right?"

Mercedes nodded vaguely as she followed Kurt into his room - English Literature had never been her favorite subject.

"Anyways, I think maybe he's just been very busy and that's why he's been acti-"

"Kurt!"

Kurt turned around, slightly annoyed at being interrupted. It didn't take long, however, for a smug smile to appear on his face when he saw Mercedes. She was standing in the middle of the room, still and open-mouthed, looking around with wide eyes.

"My _house_ fits in your room!" she exclaimed. "_Twice_!"

"I'm taking it you like it?"

"Oh my god, Kurt, it's _gorgeous_!"

She was walking around the room, turning around, taking everything in. Kurt had made some minor adjustments since he had moved in - a series of small black-and-white pictures had been hung on one wall, a creme-colored plaid lay over the couch, and just the right number of candles and decorative vases had been placed here and there across the room. They give the place a warm, homey feeling despite the pale color palette.

"If for some inexplicable reason you don't make it at Broadway or as a fashion designer, you could totally do interior design," Mercedes said, sounding impressed. "I wish I had the budget to let you do _my_ r- Kurt! The view!"

Kurt smiled as he moved next to his best friend. She was standing at the window, looking out to see the Anderson's perfectly kept English garden, surrounded by forest. Two small figures were walking over the lawn towards a number of small buildings at the back of the garden, and Mercedes pointed at them.

"Is that Blaine?"

Kurt looked a bit closer before nodding. "And Kyle. I'm guessing they're headed for the stables."

"And you trust that?"

Kurt looked confused. "Why wouldn't I trust that?"

Mercedes sighed, putting her hands in her side.

"Kurt, if you ever want to get anywhere with Blaine, you got to start getting your moves on! You can't just let him stroll off to some far-off stable with another guy, who knows what's going to go down?"

"Mercedes!" The look on Kurt's face was one of pure shock. Blaine wasn't that kind of guy. Was he?

"They're just friends!"

"Well, you and Blaine are 'just friends' as well," Mercedes cruelly declared, air quoting, "but you know you would like that to change, right?"

Confusion, doubt, and fear swirled together in Kurt's stomach, and he slumped down on the couch. He was pretty sure he was in love with Blaine - at least, he loved to be around Blaine. He loved looking at him when they were studying together, he loved commuting to school with him, and he especially loved how he felt butterflies rushing from his toes to his ears whenever Blaine would smile at him, or even better, wink.

The truth of it was: Kurt wasn't sure if, and what, he wanted more. Blaine and he, they were brothers, friends even, and he liked the way things were. He had seen enough love drama at Glee Club not to want to risk blowing that all up because he wanted to... what? Kiss Blaine? Kurt had to admit, the thought had crossed his mind, although honestly, he thought kissing was overrated. Brittany's soft kisses had done nothing for him -actually, he had found it rather gross-, and if Karofsky's kiss was any indication, boys were way too rough for him to enjoy anything.

"Kurt?"

"I don't know!" Kurt said desperately. "I don't know what I want with Blaine!"

And then his mind trailed back to what Mercedes had said...

"Do you really think Blaine... and Kyle... would... that they would... in... in the stables?" Kurt could almost slap himself. He couldn't even say it. How would he ever be able to find a boyfriend if he couldn't even _say_ that horrible, dreadful s-word out loud?

Mercedes shrugged. "I don't know. Is that Kyle-guy even gay?"

But Kurt barely heard her, the thought of Blaine and Kyle together upsetting him more than he had considered possible.

"And saying I was actually happy they were even talking to each other again!" he groaned, his hands covering his face.

"Why, what?" Mercedes looked confused.

"They were fighting," Kurt explained, shrugging, "I don't even know why. Kyle came up to Blaine on Monday to invite him to go horse riding and suggested I come along, and Blaine... well, he freaked out, basically. Ran off. They ignored each other for days, it was horrible - like there wasn't enough drama going on here at home. But then... I don't know, I guess they talked it out or something, either way, they seem fine again."

Mercedes looked out of the window. She could still see the two boys, they were laughing and bumping each others shoulders. They looked good together, she thought, but wisely refrained from saying that to Kurt. He already looked beaten down and not half as happy as he had been when she arrived not even 10 minutes earlier.

"They're probably just friends," she tried to comfort him, "I'm betting Kyle is not even gay. I mean, what are the chances, right?"

That seemed to brighten Kurt up a bit. It was true, he thought: Kyle looked pretty straight - and his gaydar hadn't gone off a single time around the boy. Maybe he needn't even worry about him at all.

"You're right," he said, "I'm probably just jumping to conclusions."

He got up and walked across the room, beckoning Mercedes.

"Now do you want to see my actual bedroom? Because this is just the living room, you know."

He winked at Mercedes, who apparently only now realized there was no bed in the room, and quickly followed him up. Kurt showed her around between many "ooh"s and "aah"s, loving the way he was able to surprise his friend. There was still a question tugging at the back of his mind though, one he was determined to answer. He needed to find out which way Kyle swung.

-o0o-

Blaine yawned as he got into the car, and Kurt could barely hold back a smile - unlike Kurt, who generally woke up 5 minutes before his alarm went off, Blaine was all but a morning person, and it appeared Mondays were especially hard on the lead Warbler.

"Good morning, sunshine!" Kurt greeted him as he started the car.

Blaine groaned something incoherent in reply, and Kurt quickly glanced at his foster brother who was now sitting next to him, holding on to his cup of coffee as if it were the only thing that was keeping him alive.

"Why are you always so happy?" Blaine asked grumpily. "It's way too early. We have to go to school. There is nothing to be happy about."

"My dearest Blaine," Kurt explained patiently, as they pulled out of the driveway, "there is plenty to be happy about. When you look to your left, you'll be able to see a beautiful sunrise. I finally have a well-fitting uniform of my own to wear. I am willing to bet you I will not be slusheed, called names or otherwise be bullied today. And there are only three days of school because it's Thanksgiving this week!"

"Exactly!" Blaine sank deeper in his seat. "Can't we just hibernate until this week is over? Please?"

"What? Why?"

The confusion on Kurt's face spoke volumes.

"Because, my dearest Kurt," Blaine used Kurt's own tone against him, "Thanksgiving at the Anderson's is like trying to feed a toddler. It takes forever, involves a lot of yelling and invariably leads to a big mess."

"But... I had a been looking forward to an Anderson's Thanksgiving!"

Blaine raised an eyebrow, casting a sideway glance at Kurt.

"Well, don't. Just... run. Run as far away as you can. Go celebrate with Mercedes, or something, and don't come back until I call you to say it's safe."

Kurt wasn't sure what to say to this. When Mercedes had been over on Saturday, she had actually invited him to celebrate Thanksgiving with her and her family, and even Carole, through Finn, had asked him for dinner on Thursday, afraid he would have to celebrate alone. But while Kurt was touched they had thought about him, it wasn't where he really wanted to be.

"No. I want to celebrate with you. With your family. You've all done so much for me these last couple of months. Thanksgiving is all about being thankful, about recognizing the good things in life. When my dad..."

Kurt quickly wiped away a tear that rolled over his cheek, determined to say what he wanted to say.

"When they were taking me away from my dad, I was so scared. I didn't know where I was going to end up, how they would treat me, whether I would still see my friends... but then I ended up with you guys. And you never even gave me a chance _not_ to feel at home. And I'm so grateful for that, I just..."

Despite himself, a sob escaped Kurt, and he was glad the traffic light just turned red so he could take his handkerchief to try to dry his eyes before the tears would ruin his facial. He was still trying to control his breathing when he felt a warm hand on his knee, and he looked up to see Blaine look at him, a mixture of surprise and worry in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," the other boy said softly, "I didn't... I didn't realize how much this meant to you. But I'm sure my mom would be thrilled if you would join us for Thanksgiving dinner."

He was interrupted by a loud horn blowing - the traffic light had turned green and the car behind them was roaring its engine impatiently, eager to leave. Kurt quickly put away his handkerchief and put the car in gear, but not before he shot a grateful glance at Blaine. He nodded and smiled.

"Come on. Let's go to school."

-o0o-

Three days later Kurt was putting the final touches on their Thanksgiving dinner. Mrs. Anderson had started the preparations already the day before, and Kurt had joined her as soon as he got back from school. They had worked almost non-stop to get the stuffing, the side-dishes, and the deserts as perfect and as delicious as they could possibly be, and now there were just these two salads that needed more seasoning before...

"Done!"

Kurt looked up from where he was standing at the counter, wiping off his hands on his apron. He stretched and winced when he felt his spine ache from standing bent over for too long.

"I think I'm gonna go and shower," he said, glancing at the clock. He barely had one hour left, but then again, it was only the four of them -Kevin hadn't shared a meal with them since Mr. Anderson had returned home-, so punctuality wasn't the biggest issue today.

"You go and get dressed, darling," Mrs. Anderson took off her apron, "and thank you for all your help."

Kurt was happy to see a genuine smile lightening up her face and he knew a similar smile lay on his face. He had really enjoyed working together with Mrs. Anderson to make this a special Thanksgiving, and although he couldn't help wishing that his dad would have been able to join them, he was sure they were going to have a wonderful evening nevertheless.

.

Blaine straightened his shoulders. He knew his foster brother would have spent hours putting together his outfit, and he hadn't wanted to lag behind - especially because he knew how important this night was for Kurt. So tonight, with some assistance from his mother, he'd picked out a pair of black jeans -tight, but not skinny- and a silk, black button-up shirt in combination with a simple cardigan. He wasn't wearing a tie and instead had left the top two buttons of his button-up open, and he was pretty sure he looked good at the very least.

Apparently Kurt thought the same, because when Blaine saw him coming from the other side of the stairs he saw him catch his breath as he caught sight of Blaine. It made him smile, and he couldn't help but adding just a little bit on top: he put one hand in his hip and strutted down the hall until he was right in front of Kurt. He did a little turn, took a pose, and looked at Kurt through his eye lashes.

"So, what do you think?"

There was the tiniest hesitation in Kurt's voice.

"You look... good," he finally said.

"Well, thank you! Coming from you, that's quite the compliment," Blaine winked, "and, if I may say so, you're looking quite ravishing yourself."

Kurt immediately started blushing, Blaine noticed with wonder and he felt slightly amused at the sight of it. Somewhere at the back of his mind he wondered how many boys had told Kurt he looked good before, but he didn't have time to dwell on the thought.

"Shall we go downstairs?"

Blaine offered his arm to Kurt, who, a little taken aback, took a moment before he finally slid his arm through Blaine's, letting himself be escorted down the stairs and to the living room. Mrs. Anderson was already there, offering both boys half a glass of sparkling wine -just this once- and the three of them immediately started talking: school, and singing, and musical theatre and movies. Blaine could tell Kurt was really enjoying the conversation, and he was just starting to get into the holiday mood himself when Mr. Anderson joined the party.

Something happened whenever Blaine and his father were in the same room. Most times, they were able to hide it fairly well, keeping the tension between the two of them, but on some occasions -like today- for them to catch each other's eyes was enough to make the temperature in the room drop a few degrees.

"Honey!" Mrs. Anderson exclaimed, trying to break the awkward silence, "We almost thought you weren't coming!"

If it was intended to be a joke, nobody was laughing, and Mrs. Anderson immediately continued talking.

"Why don't we all just move from the salon to the dining table? Kurt has prepared some delicious salads to go with the turkey!"

While Mrs. Anderson went to the kitchen to get said salads, the three men sat down. Blaine and Kurt sat next to each other on one side, and Mr. Anderson took the chair at the head of the table, leaving the seat to his left, across from Blaine, open for his wife.

"Here we are!" Mrs. Anderson placed the extra dishes on the table, which was now full of plates, bowls, and saucers, and a delicious smell rose up from all the food that was on display. Blaine was pretty sure they would be eating from this all weekend and still have leftovers, but then again, that was kind of the point of Thanksgiving, wasn't it?

"There is still desert after, so don't stuff yourselves too much."

Mrs. Anderson's voice had become increasingly higher, and Blaine silently wished she wouldn't be so obviously nervous. It only made things worse.

"So Kurt, we don't usually pray, but you can say grace if you would like to?"

But Kurt shook his head.

"I'm not exactly a religious person, Mrs. A. I don't feel the need to thank some imaginary intelligence up in heaven for food I've worked to make myself all day."

Blaine saw the relief on his mother's face, and had to keep himself from chuckling. Despite being raised catholic, his mother had little to no affinity with the christian faith, something she and his grandfather had argued about more than once.

"No problem, Kurt. But I thought maybe it was a nice idea to go around the table and say what we are thankful for this year? Blaine, if maybe you could start?"

Blaine didn't have the slightest desire of enumerating all of the things he was supposed to be thankful for, but he still nodded stiffly. Think of Kurt, he told himself, this is important to Kurt, don't ruin his evening.

"This year I'm thankful for... my parents," he started, "for loving me and supporting me, and for giving me the opportunity to go to a good school, where I can be myself."

Blaine deliberately kept his eyes on his mother as he was talking, but he didn't need to look at his father to know how his face fell and his eyes darkened.

"I am grateful for my friends at school, especially the Warblers, for giving me the chance to do something I love so much. And I am grateful for my new brother," Blaine quickly cast a sideway glance to Kurt, "who is one of the best siblings I ever had, and definitely the one with the best sense of fashion."

Kurt took the compliment with a nod of his head, and Mrs. Anderson clapped her hands.

"That was really nice, Blaine. Kurt?"

Kurt cleared his throat, not sure what he was going to say.

"I am grateful for my dad," he finally started, "for being the best dad in the world, for standing up for me and for always being there for me. Even when he's not completely there."

He bit his lip, thinking of his dad who had been in the hospital almost two months now. If he was going to say one more word about it he would tear up, he was sure, and he quickly continued.

"I am grateful for my friends at McKinley glee club, especially Mercedes. They were the first friends I ever had and I don't know what I would've done without them. I'm grateful for the Anderson family who has taken me up so lovingly in their house and home when I was alone. And I'm especially grateful for Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, for giving me the chance to attend Dalton, so that I-"

"Don't be." Mr. Anderson's voice was calm and soft. "Not for me, at least."

"Honey, don't..."

"What... what do you mean?" Kurt's eyes darted between his foster parents, confused and abashed.

"Nothing dear, Michael just mea-" Mrs. Anderson tried to reassure Kurt before she was interrupted by her husband.

"I mean, don't thank me for letting you got to Dalton. That's all on Barbara, I'm not contributing a penny to that foolishness."

There were no feelings of any kind behind those words - no anger, no guilt, no pride. Mr. Anderson was stating a fact, as if he simply didn't want to take credit for something he didn't do.

Kurt looked at the man sitting next to him dumbfounded. There was something he was missing here, he had to be missing something.

"But... surely... you have to..."

"I sure as hell don't, Kurt." Mr. Anderson took the napkin from his plate and carefully folded it over his lap, avoiding Kurt's gaze. "When I met you, and you returned my handshake so firmly, I thought you were strong. You seemed intelligent, and confident, and I even thought maybe you could teach Blaine a thing or two about what it means to be a man. Turns out I was wrong - or maybe it was Blaine who infected you with his silly ideas about love and acceptance."

Kurt was by now looking at his hands in his lap, breathing heavily. This was not happening. This could not be happening. Memories of being called names, of being shoved into lockers, flooded his mind, making it impossible for him to think.

"I thought you were enough of a man to stand up to those who tried to bring you down, but you only proved that they had every right to criticize you by choosing to run away. It was a cowardly thing to do, but in hindsight, I couldn't have expected anything else - cowardice comes with the loss of morality. I would know, my own son has chosen that path for himself as well."

His temples were throbbing heavily, and Kurt almost couldn't see from the tears that were welling up in his eyes. He was being bullied. Again. And this was worse, so much worse than before. At least in the case of Azimio and Karofsky, he could blame their small, simple minds, their desire for popularity. But Mr. Anderson... Mr. Anderson was someone he had, until a few moments ago, admired and respected for his intelligence. He was his foster father. And he had been, in some way, his friend.

Kurt looked up to meet Mr. Anderson's gaze, but whatever he was it was looking for in those pale, glass eyes, he couldn't find it.

"So, I'm sure you understand, Kurt, that it would be hypocritical of me to support you in your cowardice."

The sound of Kurt's chair falling backwards echoed through the dining room as he stood up abruptly. He turned around and all but ran out of the room. He didn't look back at Mrs. Anderson, who sat quietly in her chair, shoulders slumped. He didn't look back at Blaine who had gotten up as well and was staring at his father, eyes shooting fire. He was not even sure where he was going, all he knew was that he had to get out of that place. Now.

He jumped into his car and pulled out of the driveway.

-o0o-

"Hey..."

The voice was soft, tugging at his conscience, and Kurt straightened himself in the chair in which he had been sleeping. Someone was standing over him, watching him, and it took him some time to focus before he could see who it was.

"Blaine."

The lead Warbler smiled a short smile before his face became earnest again.

"I'm so glad I found you," he said, before lowering himself in the chair next to Kurt, "Mom was starting to get really worried."

It wasn't until that moment that Kurt remembered what had happened. Thanksgiving. Mr. Anderson. Kurt running away and driving around for hours, only to end up here, in the hospital with his dad.

"How... how did you know... I was here?" he asked, his head still fuzzy with sleep.

"Facebook," Blaine explained. "I sent a message to everyone from your old glee club, everyone I could remember, at least - I thought you might have gone to Mercedes or something. None of them had seen you, so I went to your own house, but you weren't there either, and then I thought... I might find you here."

Blaine paused for a minute. "Would you... I have some turkey with me, if you want?"

He held out a little Tupperware box, but Kurt shook his head. Eating was the last thing on his mind right now.

For a while they were simply sitting there, together, surrounded by the silence and the rhythmic beeps of Burt Hummel's heartbeat.

"Why didn't you tell me your dad was such a homophobe?" Kurt finally asked.

Blaine leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes.

"You had to deal with enough bullying as it was," he finally said, "and then you were thrown into our family and I just thought you didn't need anything more on your plate. Plus, you got along fine, the both of you, I thought maybe it could give you some extra support, to make you feel at hoome."

He rubbed his face with his hands and took a deep breath.

"And I was kind of hoping he would go easier on you, since you're... well, since you're not his son by birth."

"I see."

So when Kurt told Blaine in confidence he was bullied by a jock, Blaine felt the need to spread the news, but when Blaine's own father was a homophobe, he didn't think he should tell Kurt about it? There was a twisted logic to that, Kurt thought, but his head was too heavy to really think it through.

"Come," Blaine said, "let's go home."

But Kurt shook his head. He was not going back there, not unless he was sure Mr. A was not there.

"Am staying here," he yawned as he tried to find a comfortable position.

"Kurt, I don't really think that's a good id-" Blaine started, but he stopped when Kurt snuggled closer to him and laid his head on his shoulder, his eyes closed. He looked very tired, Blaine thought. Maybe he should just let him be? He slumped down in his chair a little bit so he could rest his head against Kurt's, and closed his own eyes. It wasn't long before he fell asleep.

.

Kurt felt the soft weight of Blaine's head press against his own, and a smile curled around his lips. He was fairly sure this wasn't exactly what Mercedes had meant when she had said he had to "get his moves on". He was also fairly sure tomorrow morning he would be sore all over from sleeping in a chair, but at least it had worked, and he thoroughly enjoyed being this close to Blaine. He sighed... he would sleep well, tonight.

* * *

><p><strong>Longest chapter ever! And although it cost me some sleep, I really enjoyed writing it. Again, my apologies if I raped Thanksgiving - I've only ever seen that in movies, to be honest... .<strong>

**I hope you found this chapter to your liking! I've reached 50 reviews so far, and although I haven't replied to all of them individually, know that each and every single one of them made my heart jump. Thank you for taking this journey with me, hope to hear from you soon!**


	9. Of quitting and comebacks

The following day, after Kurt had finally been able to take a shower, he went down to the kitchen for breakfast. He wasn't sure if he was up for the confrontation with Mr. Anderson yet, but he'd be damned if he was going to be scared of leaving his room in his own damn house. Still, he felt a sense of relief when the only other person he encountered in the kitchen was Mrs. Anderson.

He mumbled a 'good morning' before he took out a bowl from the cupboard and filled it with cereal. He was just about to take the milk out of the fridge when he heard his name.

"Kurt?"

He turned around but didn't say anything, just looked at Mrs. Anderson in silence. He wasn't angry with his foster mother per se - after all, she had always treated him right, and was even paying for his tuition by herself. Still, like Blaine, she had neglected to warn him about her husband's lingering homophobia, and even worse: she hadn't come to his defense when Mr. Anderson had started spouting his hateful monologue.

"Kurt... Kurt, I'd like to apologize on my husband's behalf... - he... he shouldn't have said those things. Especially not on a day like Thanksgiving."

The comments would have been equally hurtful on any other given day, Kurt though bitterly. And although he could tell that Mrs. Anderson was genuinely sorry, and he knew how hard it had to be for her to apologize, he wasn't going to let her off easily.

"I'm not gonna say it's ok," he said rather unforgivingly, "because it's not."

Mrs. Anderson nodded, embarrassed almost.

"I know. I don't expect you to. It's just... it's not really his fault, you know. Mike's family comes from Provo, Utah, and he's been raised in a very conservative environment, with little exposure to more liberal ideas. He's never learned-"

"Education explains why a preschooler calls his classmates 'faggot' for an insult," Kurt interrupted her. "It's not an excuse for a grown man for being an ignorant, short-sighted asshole towards 10% of the world population, including guests he invited in his home and family, and his own son. It's also not an excuse for anyone else not to raise their voice when confronted with such ignorance."

His words hit home, Kurt could see, but he wasn't done yet.

"I can only imagine how it must feel for Blaine to live in an environment like that."

He heard a noise behind him, and he didn't need the look on Mrs. Anderson's face to see who had just entered the kitchen.

"When I was placed in foster care, I was assured that I would find an accepting, open-minded family here. A place where I could be myself. A home. Instead, I've found lies, and intolerance. And I deserve more than that. So why would I let someone call me a coward if all I've done was to finally stand up for myself and refuse to let others use me as their personal frustration outlet? Why would I accept that, if the real coward is that man, who rather allows himself to alienate from his own son than to stand up against his family?"

Kurt turned around to face Mr. Anderson. There was a grim expression on the older man's face, but Kurt saw no reason to care for it, if the man didn't care about _him, _either.

"I'd say, call me if you have something to teach me about being a man," he said patronizingly, "but I wouldn't want to waste my time waiting for it."

He didn't even wait for an answer but stalked out of the kitchen, taking his breakfast up with him.

-o0o-

The rest of the Thanksgiving weekend passed rather uneventfully, but Kurt was nevertheless happy when he could finally escape to Dalton come next Monday. He was sure Blaine felt the same, although his foster brother had seemed largely unfazed by his father's outburst. He had apologized extensively to Kurt, of course, but somehow had been able to completely ignore the fact that Mr. Anderson's comments had not only been hurtful towards Kurt, but towards himself as well. Any attempt of Kurt's to bring it up had been brushed off, however, and he had finally given up - it was, after all, something between Blaine and his father, and when it came down to it, it was simply none of his business.

Still, when Kurt arrived at The Warbler's practice that Tuesday, he was feeling particularly cheerful. He had been able to catch up on a lot of schoolwork over the weekend, he had just gotten excellent feedback on his French paper, and he'd kept his head high around Mr. Anderson who, much to his gratification, had been avoiding him the past couple of days.

As he walked over to one of the couches, he could see most of the other members were already there. Nick and Jeff were at the back of the room, sharing a chair, giggling over some magazine. He saw Tiago, a Brazilian exchange student he had Algebra with, at the chess table with Nate, another boy from his class. Trent stood next to them, clearly giving instructions, trying to ignore the paper planes that some of the other boys were throwing at each other. At the other end of the room Thad and David sat waiting at the counsel's table, ready to start the session as soon as their chairman would join them.

Kurt just sank down in a couch when Wes entered, followed by Blaine, who immediately started handing out the sheet music he was holding. The room started buzzing as the boys began discussing the sheets they received, but they were quickly silenced by Wes' gavel.

"Warblers!" he shouted, "We've been working very hard towards Sectionals next week, and I'm very proud of you all. But we're not there yet, if we want to win we need to focus-"

Kurt was hardly listening. Wes was a nice guy, he found, whose determined, organized nature made him a perfect chairman, but he talked too much. He smiled at Blaine who fell in the couch next to him, taking the last of the music sheets from him. Seeing the song, his smile grew even wider, and he immediately raised his hand.

"Kurt?" Wes frowned. He, along with the rest of The Warblers, had been utterly impressed by their newest addition's voice. He had been less impressed, however, with Kurt's tendency to stand out, rather than to blend in.

"Could I take the lead for this?"

Wes looked at his fellow council members, slightly annoyed, and it was Thad who spoke.

"Actually Kurt, we were going to assign the lead to Blaine."

"I don't mind," Blaine said, shrugging his shoulders when he saw the other Warblers gasping at him in surprise. "You said this was just a motivational practice session anyways, didn't you?"

There was a whisper among the council members, and a small discussion seemed to arise until finally David held his hands up.

"Okay, why not?" He winked at Kurt. "Go ahead, Kurt."

Kurt beamed as he heard the other boys start up the beat, and he got up, clicking his fingers to the rhythm.

_Inhale the joy, inhale the fun  
><em>_Now it's time for me to get on top  
><em>_Of the world_

_Inhale the music and the warmth  
><em>_The crowd is ready to bring me to the top  
><em>_Of the world_

He danced through the choir room when the other Warblers joined in for the chorus, letting their voices carry his even further.

_Cause the world is mine  
><em>_I won't stop this time  
><em>_Cause the world is mine  
><em>_And I'm feeling so divine_

Kurt froze in front of Nick and Jeff, and in the meeting of their eyes they counted down together: _papa-ra-pa-paa_!

_I'm part of this illusive show  
><em>_Time for me to get on stage  
><em>_Lights fade_

_Tomorrow you'll be at my feet  
><em>_Saturated senses set me free  
><em>_It's all I need_

He remembered Mr. Anderson's face when he had called him out on his homophobia, and Kurt smiled. He'd show them - he'd show all of them. Not just Mr. Anderson, not just Karofsky, but every single homophobe that would ever cross his path: he'd show them all just how much he was worth.

He turned to Blaine - _The world the world is mine_

who effortlessly took over - _I won't stop this time_

And when they both sang the rest together, Kurt knew he wasn't alone.

_The world the world is mine  
><em>_I won't stop this time_

_Oh noo..._

_Cause the world is mine  
><em>_I won't stop this time  
><em>_Cause the world is mine  
><em>_And I'm feeling so divine_

Blaine watched, laughing as Kurt let himself fall back in the couch, his fellow Warblers patting him on the shoulders. It was good to see him like this, he thought: smiling, happy, surrounded by people that were maybe not yet friends, but had all the potential of becoming them. He felt his heart swell in his chest when he thought how Kurt had changed in such a short time. After only a couple of weeks, it was already becoming clear just who Kurt Hummel could be if he was given a chance, if he didn't have to waste his energy on people trying to bring him down. And Blaine felt proud, proud of Kurt, of this beautiful boy, who was on his way to becoming so much more than he himself probably realized. Yes, Blaine thought, he was proud to be able to call Kurt his brother.

-o0o-

Although it was a beautiful day, the temperatures still only barely reached the freezing point, and Kyle struggled to keep warm as he was walking to the back of the Dalton domain, where the stables were. He wrapped his arms around him, softly rubbing his body when he saw someone sitting on one of the benches along the path. It was clear from the uniform that it was a fellow student, but it wasn't until he came closer that Kyle recognized him.

"Hi Kurt."

Kurt looked up, his hand above his eyes, squinting against the sun who was standing low at the horizon.

"Kyle. Going for a walk?"

"I was just on my way to feed the horses. But how come you are sitting here - plans on a career as an ice popsicle?"

Kurt smiled, despite himself, gesturing towards the main building.

"I just had to get out of there for a while. Mr. Burken..."

"Oh, say no more," Kyle laughed - that same joyful endless laugh Kurt had heard him laugh the first time he'd met him, at The Warblers' performance. "I've heard about Mr. Burken. I haven't had the misfortune to be one of his pupils, but I've been on the receiving end of Blaine's complaints."

Kurt grimaced.

"I've been on the receiving end of _Mr. Burken_'s complaints... and once too often, I'm afraid. I've been helping my dad in the garage since I could walk, I know what I'm doing - I really do. But he just _needs_ to quibble about every little security detail..."

"You're forgetting one thing," Kyle interrupted him as he shoved away some of the snow and sat down next to Kurt. "You're not being trained to be a mechanic. You're being trained to be the CEO of a nation-wide chain of garages."

Kurt rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Now that would be a dream come true."

"Well then, no need to worry about A+ marks then, is there?"

Kyle nudged at Kurt, who didn't seem at all convinced, and patted him on the knee.

"Say, why don't you come with me, let me introduce you to the girls? It'll get your mind off things... and it'll be warmer than sitting here."

Kurt hesitated - voluntarily entering a stable where a significant amount of large mammals stood sweating, pooping and smelling together wasn't exactly on his bucket list. But he had to admit there was logic to Kyle's argument: it would be a lot warmer. Well, that and it would give him the chance to find out a little bit more about the senior. Which team he played for, for example. He finally nodded.

"Okay. But if one of them bites a hole in my uniform, I will send the bill to _you_."

"Deal."

Kyle smiled. "Come on, let's go."

.

The smell wasn't as bad as Kurt had feared, but he still entered the stable a little bit apprehensively, keeping a safe distance between himself and the animals who were peeking out from their boxes. They seemed to recognize Kyle, Kurt thought, as the black-haired senior greeted them one by one, talking softly to them while he gave them their share of oats for the day. Kurt left him to his business and started walking slowly through the stable, reading the name plates that were attached above the entrance of each box. He stopped when he recognized one of the names.

_Meryem_.

At first sight, Meryem's box seemed to be empty, but when Kurt stepped a little closer, he could make out the dark shape of a horse standing against the opposite wall. Even as a layman, Kurt could see she was a beautiful animal. With the sole exception of a white, drop-shaped spot between her eyes her fur was brown - a clear, bright brown that reminded Kurt of Blaine's eyes (although, Kurt had to admit, there were many things that seemed to remind him of Blaine these days, so maybe this was just in his head). She held her head high, and her eyes glistened brightly in the dimmed light of the stable.

"She's a beauty, isn't she?"

"She is." Kurt looked as Kyle entered the box, not daring to follow the other boy. "Is this Blaine's horse?"

"She's technically from Dalton," Kyle said, "and he doesn't ride here anymore. But they won the championship together, yes."

"The championship?" Kurt raised an eyebrow. "What championship?"

Sure, Kyle had called Blaine "our champ" right before their argument a couple of weeks back, but Kurt had assumed it had just been a matter of speech - that it referred to an actual title had never even occurred to him.

"The Ohio State High School Jumping. Blaine won first place as a freshman on his first entering almost two years ago. He was the youngest winner in the history of the Championship. Then of course, he won the Youth Championship 3 times in a row as well, so it wasn't entirely unexpected."

Kurt suddenly remembered the trophies and medals he had seen on one of the cupboard shelves the first time he had been in Blaine's room. They had seemed dusty and he had never paid them much attention. Maybe he should've, he thought.

"Why don't you come here?" Kyle beckoned with his hand to Kurt, who was still standing right outside of Meryem's box. "She loves to be stroked. And she won't bite, I promise."

There was little doubt in Kurt's mind about the first part of that statement, but he wasn't too sure about the second half. And although he couldn't see any, he was pretty sure there was horse poop hidden somewhere between the straw on the floor he wasn't exactly eager to walk into. But Kyle kept beckoning him, and Kurt reminded himself that he needed to be on friendly terms with this boy if he wanted to get to know him better - refusing the offer might come across as rude. And so, ignoring the smell, watching carefully where he was placing his feet, Kurt slowly walked towards the large animal who was standing across from him. Kyle stepped aside, nodding encouragingly, and Kurt reached out.

Meryem's neck was warm and soft under his touch. Kurt wasn't sure what he had expected, but the feeling wasn't at all unpleasant, almost relaxing even, and if he hadn't been so convinced that the horse's IQ was somewhere in the single digits, he would've thought that she was leaning into the touch, enjoying it and finding it at least as relaxing as he did.

It was strange, Kurt thought, that Blaine had quit jumping if he had been so obviously good at it. Of course, the academic pressure at Dalton was high, and Kurt saw every day how hard Blaine had to work to keep up with all the extracurricular activities on top of his regular schedule. But if you had to make choices, didn't it make more sense to choose what you were best at?

When he voiced his thoughts to Kyle, though, the other boy slowly shook his head.

"Blaine didn't leave the horse-riding team because he was too busy with those other things."

"But... that's what he said last time, didn't he?" Kurt was confused. "That he couldn't do horse-riding on top of his current schedule? How can you even be sure?"

"Because he only joined Math Club and the School News Paper and all the other crap he's keeping himself busy with _after_ he quit."

The way Kyle said it, it sounded surprisingly cynical, and when Kurt turned to look at him, he saw a dark shadow cast over the senior's face.

Then why _did_ Blaine quit?

The question was burning on the tip of his tongue, but Kurt could tell it was useless asking. Even if Kyle knew the answer -which, for some reason, Kurt was pretty sure of- he didn't look like he would be telling Kurt. There was something else Kyle had said that had attracted Kurt's attention, though...

"You said Blaine doesn't ride here anymore, but you've invited him a couple of times, haven't you?"

To Kurt's surprise, Kyle chuckled.

"It's become some sort of joke between us," the senior explained, "I ask him for a ride, he makes some ridiculous excuse, we agree to do it some other time, and then we start all over again. Blaine hasn't set foot in the Dalton stables since last summer - he hasn't really had a reason to, either, seeing as he quit the team. No, the only horse you'll see Blaine on, is Tornado."

"Who?"

Now Kyle turned at Kurt, a look of surprise in his eyes.

"How long have you been living with Blaine, exactly? Surely you must have met his horse?"

There was an accusing tone in Kyle's voice, and for a moment Kurt actually felt guilty. He had never had any interest in Blaine's hobbies, preferring to bond over things he liked himself rather than to explore other interests.

"Not really," he shook his head, "Blaine never talks about it. I didn't even know he had it until a couple of weeks ago."

"Him," Kyle corrected him. "Horses are noble animals. They get personal pronouns."

"Oh."

For some reason, Kurt now not only felt guilty, but stupid as well. Fortunately, Kyle didn't seem to notice his sudden discomfort.

"I can't believe Blaine's never taken you to see him," he mumbled, more to himself than to Kurt. "Obviously he hasn't offered to teach you to ride, either, then?"

"Wh... what?" Kurt was confounded. "No!"

"Would you?"

"Would I what?"

"Want to learn to ride?"

Kurt looked at Kyle, baffled at the proposition. Kyle, however, looked at him with open, clear eyes, and Kurt's stomach clenched as he felt himself almost drawn into them.

"N...no... not really..." he stuttered.

"Too bad," Kyle shrugged, patting Meryem on the shoulder, saying her goodbye. "Let me know if you change your mind!"

He walked out of the box, leaving Kurt behind, who suddenly found himself alone with a horse in a rather confined space. As quickly as possibly -but still careful not to thread in any poop- Kurt followed after Kyle. Glancing at his watch, he noticed it was getting quite late already, and he gave a quick wave to Kyle before he hurried out of the stable. Suddenly, he was quite anxious to get home, but it wasn't until he was almost back at the main building that he remembered that he still didn't know anything more about Kyle.

-o0o-

Blaine threw his bag in the back of the car, and Kurt followed his example.

"Who's driving?"

Blaine shrugged, but went to the passenger's side. "You go."

Their conversation was light and easy - complaining about their respective teachers and discussing what movie they wanted to see next. Kurt had trouble to focus on the lighthearted subjects though, his encounter with Kyle still fresh on his mind. He was still contemplating whether or not he would bring it up when Blaine changed subjects, just as the exit for Kenton drew closer.

"Were you still going to visit your dad?"

Kurt was surprised, but he nodded. "Why?"

"I was thinking of coming along. If that's ok with you, of course."

Blaine had never come along to any of his after school-visits to the hospital, and Kurt quickly glanced at Blaine before he answered.

"Ehm... sure. It's kind of... depressing there, though. Wouldn't you rather I drop you off home instead?"

"Not really," Blaine shook his head, "home's more depressing, I'm sure. And I kind of like hospitals, to be honest."

"You do?"

Sure, Kurt thought, there was a certain tension in the air at the Anderson's household, but to say he would prefer a hospital was still a little far-fetched. But Blaine smiled.

"Yeah. Kind of. I mean, I know that people feel that it's depressing with all those people sick and everything. But just think about it: if somebody's in the hospital, then that means that people are trying hard to make them better, that people care about them. And that's a good thing, right?"

It took Kurt a couple of seconds before he realized Blaine indeed had a point. He still wished his dad didn't need to be taken care of in the first place, though.

"And you can go and visit them, see how they're doing. Imagine they would've just taken your dad away and only let you see him again once he got better. That would be even worse right?"

Kurt didn't reply, instead wondering how Blaine even came up with this stuff like this. The thought of not being able to visit his dad seemed a complete nightmare to him. He got lost in his own thoughts, and apparently so did Blaine, because nothing more was said until they arrived at the hospital.

.

"Hi dad!"

As usual, Kurt walked straight to his father, pressing a kiss on his forehead, before putting down his bag and taking off his coat.

"I've brought Blaine along with me," he continued, "you remember Blaine, don't you? He was here on Thanksgiving?"

"Hi, Mr. Hummel," Blaine waved, a little awkwardly. How exactly was he supposed to greet a comatose man whom he'd never actually met?

"I'm going to get some coffee. Blaine, you want some?"

"Sure. A me-"

"-medium drip," Kurt smiled, "I know."

He took his wallet before leaving the room and made his way to the cafeteria. It was just down the hall, and the lady behind the cashier desk smiled in recognition when he entered the room.

"Kurt! What can I get you today?"

"The usual," he said, "and a medium drip. With cinnamon flavor."

The lady's eyes widened a little bit.

"An extra coffee?" she asked, "Is your... did he wake up?"

Kurt stared at her for a moment, not sure what she meant, until he realized what she was asking.

"No," he said, face falling, "not yet. But he's getting better. I know he is."

"I'm sure he is, honey, I'm sure he is," she smiled encouragingly, putting her hand on his when he reached for his wallet, "and just leave it, love, this one's on me."

Kurt smiled gratefully as he put both coffees on a platter, adding a cookie and sugar for both him and Blaine.

"Thanks, I appreciate it," he said as he scooped up the platter and made his way to the exit, "I'll see you later!"

"Say hi to your dad from me!" she shouted after him.

"Will do!"

Kurt turned towards his dad's room, shaking his head over how full she had filled the coffee cups. He had never been more grateful they had lids, because he was sure otherwise he would have spilled coffee all over the place. He carefully made his way trough the hall, but it wasn't until he entered his dad's room that he became aware of the voices that were coming from within. When he finally did, though, there was a clash as the platter he had been holding slipped out of his hands, coffee spilling all over the floor.

"Kurt? Would you mind explaining me who this gentleman is?" Burt Hummel asked. "And why are you wearing that silly uniform?"

* * *

><p><strong><span>Song<span>: The world is mine - Hooverphonic**

**... and he's back! ;)**

**I spent a lot of time editing this chapter - I hope it doesn't come across as a haphazard collection of scenes, I found it kind of hard to get them to match this time... let me know what you think!  
>Also, with regards to the song, I've spent a lot of time trying to decide between something I felt like using, and something that would be more familiar to most. I've read an awful lot of songfics where I didn't know the songs though, which I realize is sometimes annoying, but other times introduces you to a new artist. I hope for you this song will have the latter effect!<strong>

**Free hugs for all of you subscribers, favoriters, and commenters - thank you so much for the support! But it's 1 a.m. here so if you would allow me... I need to catch some sleep.**


	10. Reprieve

Kurt's brain appeared to have stopped working. He was pretty sure he was supposed to run into the room, to hug his dad, to scream, to- _something_. But instead he stood in the door opening, unmoving, bringing his fist to his mouth in a vague attempt to stop the tears from coming. It didn't help - they welled up from his eyes, streaming down his cheeks and blurring his vision. A sob found its way up his throat, and the sound seemed to bring him back into the present.

"Dad..."

Kurt tried to remain composed as he walked towards his dad and wrapped his arms around him, hugging him tighter than he'd ever done before.

"Dad... you can't believe how happy I am to see you up."

"Well, I couldn't tell what with all the tears streaming down your face, but sure," Burt said, a little bit unsure. He looked at his son inquisitively. "Are you ok? You act like you haven't seen me for months."

Kurt couldn't help but laugh a little at the strange truth of the statement. He took his handkerchief, wiping away the tears from his face, and took his father's hand.

"Dad... do you know where you are?"

Burt frowned, looking around.

"In a hospital, it would seem... I'm not sure why, though," he lifted his arms, moving his legs, his eyes trailing over his body, as if he was searching for some kind of injury. "I seem to be fine. A bit stiff, maybe... ."

Kurt inhaled deeply as he squeezed his dad's hand.

"Dad... please, don't freak out but you... you had a heart attack."

Burt's eyes widened a little bit, and Kurt continued.

"You fell in a coma... you've been in the hospital for almost two months now."

"I've- what?"

Alarmed, Burt jerked from in the hospital bed.

"B-but... No! I can't have been! Where... how... have you been taking care of yourself?" Burt grabbed Kurt's arm, trying to see if he was alright, but Kurt gently pushed him back down.

"I'm ok, dad, please, don't worry. I'm fine. Just... be calm... okay?" He looked at his dad with worry in his eyes. "You've just woken up from a heart attack-induced coma... just... try to stay calm? Please?"

Burt nodded, calming down as he slowly sank back into the pillows.

"But... I just... oh God... Kurt... I'm so, so sorry... . Are you sure you're alright?"

Kurt sat back on the bed.

"Don't be sorry - I'm fine, I am. I was put into foster care- nono, don't worry, it's ok," he needed to push his dad back down once again, "I didn't go to a home. They placed me in a foster family. They're really nice people, I'm sure you would like them."

"I still don't see why are you wearing that uniform. The same as the other boy did?"

It wasn't until now that Kurt remembered that Blaine had come with him that day. He looked up at the couch where he had last seen him, but it seemed that his foster brother had left the room - until he heard a small cough behind him.

"Eh... Kurt?"

Kurt turned around to see Blaine standing in the doorway, looking apologetic.

"I... I went to get the nurses? I hope that's ok but... I just... thought they should know."

He looked ill at ease, whether it be from witnessing Kurt's obviously unstrained relationship with his dad or simply from feeling a bit out of place at the reunion of sorts unfolding before him, it was hard to tell. But Kurt beckoned him over.

"Sure, sure. Blaine, just, come here, let me introduce you."

Kurt jumped of the bed as Blaine entered the room, rather apprehensively, looking at Kurt as if asking "_are you really sure this is the right time for that?_". Kurt didn't seem to notice, or chose to ignore it, because he pushed Blaine towards his dad by the small of his back, smiling broadly.

"Dad, this is Blaine Anderson, my foster brother. Blaine, meet my dad, Burt Hummel."

Blaine held out his hand, and Burt took it, shaking it slowly.

"Nice to meet you, lad."

"Nice to meet you too, sir."

There was a rather awkward silence in which Burt gave Blaine a once over, as if he was trying to gauge whether this person would actually be worthy of being called a brother to his son, before he turned back to Kurt.

"You still haven't told me what's up with the uniforms."

Anyone not paying attention would have missed the small hesitation in Kurt's voice, or the quick glance he shot at Blaine.

"Well... the Andersons live outside Lima, so it was easier if I transferred to Blaine's school. Logistics and all, you know."

It was not even a half-truth and Kurt knew it, and he only hoped his dad wouldn't see through his uneasy smile. It seemed he didn't.

"Is that a private school? Doesn't that cost them a lot of money?" Burt asked instead, sounding worried.

"Oh no, it's not all that expensive. And Blaine already went there, so it's basically pay one, have the second free!"

Kurt let out a nervous giggle, and he had never been so relieved to see two nurses enter the room to disrupt their conversation.

"Well, Mr. Hummel, aren't we happy to see you awake!"

The two women gently pushed Kurt and Blaine aside, starting to check vitals and stats and things Kurt didn't even know needed checking. As he looked at the both nurses doing their job, fussing over his dad, he felt his heart fill with gratitude. His dad was back, and the nightmare was finally over. Just a couple of days, and he would be back home, _they_ would be back home, and life would return to normal: greasy fingers on the door, helping out in the garage, and, most importantly, Friday night dinners.

He would finally go back home.

.

"Why didn't you tell him?"

They were on their way home, Blaine driving since Kurt was still too shaken up to take the wheel. If Kurt would've had his say, he would've spent the whole evening with his dad, but the nurses had insisted he would return home, and leave his dad to recover in all calm and quiet. Tomorrow was Saturday - he'd be able to spend more time with him then. But for now he was locked in a car with Blaine, who asked him the question Kurt knew had been waiting for him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he simulated ignorance, looking out of the window.

Blaine didn't press the question, but an awkward silence filled the car and Kurt could feel Blaine's eyes on him at regular intervals. And however hard he tried to ignore it, he couldn't.

"I didn't want to upset him, alright?" he said, desperately. "He's already had a heart attack once, he just woke up from a coma that lasted two months, I'm not risking him having another, possibly fatal attack by telling him I was practically forced to transfer because some homophobic jerk threatened to kill me!"

He was breathing heavily, very aware that, although he did have good reasons to have done what he did, his first words to his dad had basically been a lie.

"Kurt, he's your dad. He cares about you. He has a right to know what's going on in your life - also, and I'd say especially, the bad stuff." Blaine sounded urgent, although there was a strange distance in his voice. "You seem to be close to your dad... don't you think he'd prefer to know over blissful ignorance?"

"But it'll kill him! I know him, Blaine, I know him and he's going to freak out and it'll kill him. He won't be able to handle it."

"It's not your place to decide what he can or can't handle, Kurt. I still think you should tell him. If you don't, he'll expect you to return to McKinley as soon as you move back home."

"Well, that will happen anyway, right?" Kurt sighed. He felt almost guilty because, even during all the excitement and happiness about his dad, a selfish little voice at the back of his head had quickly popped up: _the party's over - no more unlimited shopping, no more carefree high school experience, no more leaving the household chores to Kevin. No more Blaine._

Blaine didn't answer Kurt's question, feigning to concentrate on the heavy traffic they'd suddenly found themselves into. The silence hung heavily between them until Kurt finally gave in.

"Fine. I'll tell him," he said, "Just... not yet, okay?"

A small nod and a quick smile was all he received in reply, and he resolved to gazing out the window once more. Just twelve more hours, and he could go see his dad again.

-o0o-

"Kurt? Kurt, dear, are you here?"

Kurt looked up from the suitcase he was packing, cocking his head to make sure he'd heard it right.

"Kurt?"

In a few quick strides he was at the stairs, rushing down two steps at a time but stopping halfway when he saw who it was.

"Oh, Kurt, honey, I'm sorry I came in but I knocked and there was no reply..."

Mrs. Anderson pointed at the door, looking apologetic, and Kurt wiped the annoyed look from his face. It really was impossible to be angry with her.

"That's okay," he turned around to go back up to his room, "come on up."

Mrs. Anderson followed Kurt up the stairs to find him going back and forth between the dressing room and the suitcase lying on his bed. She watched him for a few minutes, meticulously folding shirts, pants, scarfs, and other pieces of clothing she couldn't always identify, before she sat down on the bed, careful not to wrinkle any of the clothes that were laying in neat piles.

"So... Kurt... ," she started, "I hear from Blaine you're planning on returning to your old school?"

Kurt paused midway between his bed and his dresser, cocking his head at Mrs. Anderson before he replied.

"Yes. Yes, I am. They're keeping my dad at the hospital for observation for one more week, so he will go home next weekend. As will I. I've already informed Ms. Cleever."

"Are you sure that's what you want?"

Kurt looked at her in surprise.

"Of course that's what I want! I've been visiting my dad almost every day for the past two months, hoping he'd wake up and we could go home together. So now that he actually has, I don't see why I would suddenly change my mind and, I don't know, wish he'd become comatose again? Don't get me wrong," he said, placing one hand over his heart and pointing at his room with the other, "I am grateful for all of this but... I just really want to be back home with my dad."

He sat down opposite Mrs. Anderson, grabbing her hand.

"You've been really, really good to me, Mrs. A... and I will never be able to thank you enough - although I promise I will fix your car free of charge for the rest of your life."

He leaned a bit forward as he said the last sentence in an almost conspiratorial whisper, causing them both to giggle a little. But Kurt tapped Mrs. Anderson's hand, standing up again.

"Nothing good lasts forever - I guess it's just time for me to go."

He flashed his foster mother a shy smile, and it was all she needed to see. Mrs. Anderson had always prided herself on her ability to read others, and there was no doubt in her mind about what Kurt was feeling: he might have sounded calm and rational, but there was panic in his eyes and worry on his mind.

"Kurt - I know you want to be with your dad, and believe me, I would never come between that. But do you really want to go back to McKinley? And is it a good idea to do it now? You have Sectionals next weekend, and whether you'll be competing with the Warblers or with the Ne... Nov..."

"New Directions," Kurt helped her out.

"... thank you... whether with the Warblers or New Directions, you'll be practicing heavily this week. And exams are coming up after that - switching schools right before exams is not easy. So will you take all that, and the extra care for your dad, on top of returning to live with the same people who made your life so hard on you?"

Kurt was standing in the middle of the room, his heart beating faster as he heard Mrs. Anderson spell out all the fears he'd been trying to forget about for two days now. His fingers played nervously with the buttons of the shirt he was holding, but he nevertheless held his head high.

"Don't you think I haven't thought about that?" he asked, "don't you think I know how hard it might be - _will be_ - returning to all that, especially now that I've experienced that it doesn't have to be like that? But what choice do I have, really? Stay here in my happy bubble and let my dad return to Lima on his own? Force my dad to keep me at Dalton, despite a tuition bill I know for a fact he cannot afford, let alone the amount of gas I'd be spending driving four hours every day? And while we're at it, I can maybe have him hire a nurse to take care of him as well since I'll be too busy worrying about my GPA!"

His voice had risen steadily higher over the course of his monologue, and in the back of his throat he could feel the strain it was causing to his vocal cords. Mrs. Anderson however, remained unfazed as ever.

"There is another option..."

.

"So... if I understand it correctly, Mrs. ... eh..."

"Anderson," Mrs. Anderson provided helpfully with a small nod of her head.

"Yes... so... if I understand it correctly, you suggest I move in with you and your family instead of returning to my own home?"

Burt sat upright in his hospital bed, feeling strangely out of place next to the class and elegance Barbara Anderson had brought into the room. He had never been more grateful Kurt had insisted on buying him a new pair of silk pajamas for his hospital stay.

"Indeed," Mrs. Anderson confirmed, although she immediately put up her right hand. "Only temporarily though! I am not a charity foundation and while I am be happy to do this, it will of course place a burden on my family as well. However, I think it is in Kurt's best interest to at least finish the current semester at Dalton, preferably without the added stress of running a household and taking care of you - with all due respect."

Burt nodded shortly in understanding, and looked at his son.

"What do you think of all this?"

"Well... ," Kurt moved uncomfortably on his chair, "I would really prefer to go back to Lima with you. I don't mind taking care of you. I really don't."

Burt didn't doubt the sincerity of Kurt's words, but he could feel there was more behind his words he wasn't saying.

"But?" he prompted.

"But... I've only just settled in at Dalton and it's really busy now with Sectionals and exams coming up. I don't even know what they've covered at McKinley."

In all fairness, Kurt had a pretty good idea of what they had been covering at McKinley - Rachel, Mercedes and Tina had kept him up to date on most subjects, and he was fairly sure he would have no trouble at all to keep up coming from the higher standards that were maintained at Dalton. But he simply couldn't tell his dad that the mere thought of returning to McKinley made his stomach turn around. Or that he really wanted to spend more time with Blaine... .

"I'll have to learn new songs and routines for Glee Club and catch up 2 months of every single subject and móve and-"

"Alright, Kurt, alright... ," Burt held up his hands to slow down Kurt's rant. "I got it."

Kurt bit his lip, scared he had added just a bit too much drama for his argumentation to be credible.

"There's a study in Kurt's room," Mrs. Anderson intervened, "we could turn it into a guest room. That way you'll be close to Kurt, but you still have your privacy."

"Yes, sure," Burt waved it off, not really interested in the details of the arrangement, keeping his focus on his son.

"Kurt, are you sure that this is what you want? Wouldn't you prefer to return to your friends at McKinley?"

Kurt felt Burt's stare on him, and he swallowed painfully before he straightened himself, looking his father in the eyes. He didn't want to lie, but he wasn't ready to tell the truth yet, either.

"It would be... easiest if I could stay at Dalton and finish the semester."

_And the rest of high school_, he thought hopefully, but he didn't say that out loud.

"Ok," Burt said, clearly not all that excited at the prospect of moving in with a family of strangers. But if it was what was best for Kurt, what Kurt wanted... "that's settled then. When do we go?"

Kurt's eyes lit up, and he could barely contain the happiness bubbling up inside his chest. _He got to stay at Dalton. Even if only for another month, he got to stay with Blaine._ He tried his best to suppress a broad smile from appearing on his face as he spoke.

"The doctors said you could go home on Saturday, so... I thought we could get you settled in before Sectionals?"

-o0o-

The following week flew by, and in between Warblers practice and last minute assignments, Kurt was barely able to prepare everything for his dad's homecoming. He'd had a lot of help from Kevin, though, and together they had turned Kurt's study to a bedroom for Burt. There hadn't been time for a big party, though, and not even an hour after Burt first set foot in the Anderson's house, Kurt was already saying goodbye.

"Are you sure you're going to be ok?"

He shook up the pillows for the umpteenth time, and checked whether the water pitcher was filled. There were apples and bananas in the fruit bowl, two books within reach, the remote controls for radio and tv, ...

"Kevin will be home all evening, so if you need anything, just c-"

"... call and he'll come. I know."

"Good. Good," Kurt was looking around once more, when he remembered something. "The bathroom's just-"

"... down the hall, second door on the left. You told me. Twice. Look-" Burt took his son's fluttering hands, holding them down, forcing Kurt to look him in the eyes. "I'm fine, Kurt, really, I am. Stop fussing. Now go, you're going to be late."

But Kurt barely even listened.

"I can stay here with you, if you want," he completely ignored his father's words, "it's ok, they don't really need me at The Warblers. Not like I have a solo or anything... and I don't like the thought of you being here alone on your first evening."

"Well, that Kevin guy is here too, isn't he?"

Burt winked, but all he got in return was an indignant look.

"That's not what I meant, dad."

"I know," Burt sighed, squeezing his son's hands a little, "and I'm really, really sorry I can't be there tonight to support you. But there's nothing we can do. And Mrs. Anderson said she would tape the whole thing, so I'll see it tomorrow, yes? You go now and win that cup for me, ok?"

A small smile appeared around Kurt's lips, and he seemed to calm down a little bit.

"Ok... " he gave his dad a kiss, "I have to go now. I'll see you tonight, ok?"

Kurt let go of his dad's hands, picking up his bag. On his way out, he stopped and turned in the doorway to look at his dad. He still couldn't believe he was here, in his study room, sitting up - still weak and looking a bit pale, but healthy nevertheless, alive, awake. As far as Kurt was concerned, it was an early Christmas miracle, and he knew he would never again take his dad for granted.

-o0o-

Thad was waiting for them in the entry hall already, looking more nervous than Kurt had ever seen him.

"There you are! Oh, Mrs. Anderson, nice to see you."

Thad was a prime example of Dalton politeness as he greeted Blaine's mother, before he turned back to the lead Warbler to scoff him off slightly less politely.

"What the hell took you? And could you please _please_ pick up your phone next time you're going to be 30 seconds late? Wes is freaking out - big time."

"I didn't miss any calls, I swear!"

Blaine's indignation quickly made place for embarrassment when he checked his phone: set on silent with five missed calls.

"Thad - I'm so, so sor-"

"Yesyes, explain it to Wes when he's done killing you. Now come on, let's go!"

Mrs. Anderson smiled at their little quarrel, waving both her boys off before setting off to the bar herself - there were four hours left before the performance was starting, and by the looks of the as yet empty theatre, it was going to be a long four hours.

.

Thad hadn't exaggerated about Wes' panic attack. Their otherwise composed chairman had been all over the place, making them repeat and rehearse every song no less than ten times before he had finally allowed them to take five and have a drink or see their parents right before the show started.

Right now, however, Kurt was standing in the wings, biting his lip as he overheard two voices talking softly on the other side of the curtain.

"He's not here, David. He's not here."

"Maybe he's late," David's calm voice replied, "or maybe something came up and he couldn't make it."

"Then why hasn't he called? Or even texted?" Blaine sounded desperate, but above all - disappointed. "He _promised_. He promised he'd come."

There was a ruffling sound, and Kurt suspected David was giving Blaine a hug.

"I'm sure there's a perfectly logical explanation. Just... don't worry about it, ok? I'm sure he's thinking of you even if he couldn't make it."

"He's my best friend, David. I really wanted him to be here for me tonight."

A pause, and a sigh.

"I know. I know. But you're going to kill it, with or without Kyle to cheer you on. Tell you what: we go get that trophy to show him on Monday, and make him sorry he wasn't here to see us win it, alright?"

Kurt could almost feel the sadness in Blaine's smile through the curtain and he closed his eyes, clenching his fists. He heard Blaine replying something, but it was impossible to make out what it was because the lights had gone on on stage, and the audience was clapping as the curtains opened.

"They are adorable together, aren't they?"

The voice behind him made Kurt jump, and he turned around to find Tiago had joined him in the wings. It took him a moment to figure out what the other boy was talking about, though, and it wasn't until he saw him point his chin at the stage, that he understood.

"Yes. Yes, they are."

Jeff and Nick had just walked on scene, taking their places for their song. The council had decided to have the two boys duet rather than pick one of them for a solo, and they had pleaded and begged with the council until they had finally been allowed to do the song of their choosing: _Well did you evah_ from High Society. It wouldn't have been Kurt's first choice, but even he had had to admit that the two freshmen had done a great job making the song their own, and it brought a bit of a comic relief and movement into the otherwise rather stiff Warblers arrangements.

"I'm sure your turn will come soon, too," Tiago continued, apparently noticing the look of jealousy on Kurt's face. "You have a great voice."

Kurt smiled, grateful for the compliment, but his face dropped when he remembered how he had been turned down for a solo.

"Thank you, but I think The Warblers may not be quite so accepting of my individuality when it comes to song choices."

"Only because you think of yourself as you," Tiago said, somehow succeeding in making it sound like an observation rather than an accusation. "If you start thinking of yourself as a Warbler, a part of the group, you'll see it will take you further than you would expect."

Blaine had said something similar to him after the audition, Kurt remembered.

"Look at those two - they're inseparable. Still they didn't propose the duet as _their_ duet, but as an arrangement including all the Warblers, as a group song. That's what earned them their spot, not their stage presence or vocal range."

Jeff and Nick were currently waltzing over the stage, fake-fighting over who got to take the lead, and Kurt knew the cue for the other Warblers to join them would be coming soon. He smiled at Tiago.

"Thank you. I'll try to keep that in mind."

"You do that," Tiago winked, patting his shoulder, "now let's go win this thing."

-o0o-

There was a strange atmosphere in the car when they drove home. Blaine sat slumped in the passenger seat, not even half as happy as he was supposed to be after their tie with the New Directions.

"You did a great job, sweetie," Mrs. Anderson smiled at him, giving him a quick pat on the knee, "I'm so proud of you."

Blaine didn't respond, and Mrs. Anderson straightened herself, looking at Kurt in the rear mirror.

"You too, Kurt, you didn't miss a single side step!"

Kurt smiled back faintly, not exactly in a celebratory mood himself. The conversation between Blaine and David he had accidentally overheard would have been enough to at least throw him off track a little, but what was really on his mind was something totally different.

Seeing his friends from McKinley again had made him realize exactly how much he missed them sometimes. Sure, he had kept in touch - Mercedes had been over a couple of times, they'd been shopping with the girls, and they'd even had that sleepover at Rachel's one time. But seeing them all, together, and even more, seeing them all perform together, having fun on stage, he had felt strangely left out. He had expected to feel conflicted about having to compete against them, he had expected to feel pity for them when The Warblers would have won the competition. Instead, there had been jealousy - of their obvious camaraderie even as the internal drama had reached a new high, of their hugs and woots after the tie while even the most enthusiastic Warblers had only given a content nod as they clapped politely.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have to return to McKinley after the Christmas holidays. Of course there would be slushees, and taunting, and discrimination, but he'd always had Glee Club. Granted, they hadn't always stood up for him the way he had wanted them to, but they'd been there for him, at least. And maybe after his absence they would realize how hard it had been on him, and make more effort to protect him.

Or maybe they wouldn't.

Kurt finally put it off his mind when they arrived home. Mrs. Anderson tried for some time to convince him and Blaine to celebrate their tie with some hot chocolate and a movie, but neither of them was in the mood, calling on fatigue to go up to their respective rooms as soon as possible. Both boys climbed the stairs in silence, Blaine all but dragging his feet, his usual "good night" sounding flat and even.

"Blaine!"

Blaine turned around to see Kurt standing on the top of the stairs where he'd left him just moments before, and it seemed the younger boy was as surprised that he had called after Blaine as Blaine himself was.

"I'm... I'm sorry Kyle didn't show."

Blaine's eyes darkened a little, his brows frowning.

"I... I overheard you talk with David. Before the show." Kurt explained apologetically.

"O."

"I wished my dad could've been there too. But hey! We still won, right?"

Kurt let some jazz hands accompany his last sentence, and Blaine couldn't hold back a smile. Kurt would always know how to make him smile. And he was right, of course - Blaine wasn't the only one who had had to miss someone in the audience.

"We did," he said simply, "we did. Goodnight, Kurt."

He heard Kurt return his goodnight wishes as he walked back to his room, taking his cell phone out of his pocket to check it for what must have been the 250th time that night.

Not even a text.

* * *

><p><strong>It seems that I managed to surprise a lot of people with the previous ending - for better or for worse ;). I'm sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out - I'm a slow writer and ... well, I'm a slow writer. Also, I apologize for the little Klainteraction there has been these last chapters, I promise to try to work on that, and you'll definitely see them together next chapter! Anything else you want to see happening? (or not?)<strong>

**(also, what did you think about tonight's new ep? I don't want to give spoilers here but... Kurt's low register! Damn...)**

**Reviewreviewreview...**


	11. Discomfort

With a sigh, Kurt collected his books. They weren't even halfway through their two-week exam period and he was already exhausted. He'd known Dalton had higher standards, of course, but somehow he still seemed to have underestimated them gravely. These exams were killing him and he was honestly wondering why he hadn't just returned to Lima and McKinley with his dad when he had the chance. If the pressure was any indication for how college was going to be, he feared the worst.

He was just leaving the room when he heard his dad call after him.

"Kurt? Could I talk to you for a minute?"

Surprised, Kurt stopped and retraced his steps, poking his head around the door of his former study, current bedroom of his dad.

"I'm not going out, dad, I was just going to Blaine's to study."

"That's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about."

Burt looked at his son with a serious look on his face, and Kurt slowly sank down on a chair, suddenly feeling slightly ill at ease, waiting for his dad to speak.

"I was just... wondering... ," Burt started, rather apprehensively, "is something going on between the two of you?"

He was obviously no more at ease than his son was, and if Kurt hadn't felt so uncomfortable he probably would've found it endearing. As the matters were, though, Kurt felt his stomach twitch and his cheeks flush, and it cost him the greatest effort to remain calm.

"Why would you even think that?"

"Well... you're spending an awful lot of time with him," his dad tried to explain, "and I can see the way you look at him."

"We're _studying_ together! You know I can't concentrate here when you're around all the time - no offense. And what's wrong with the way I look at him?" Kurt asked defensively.

"When did I say there's something _wrong_ with it? It's just...," Burt paused, thinking how to formulate what he wanted to say in the best way possible. "It's different from the way you look at other people."

Inwardly, Kurt cringed - if even his _dad_ had picked up on it... but he wasn't ready to admit anything. Not yet.

"Well, he _is_ different from other people as well, isn't he? I mean, he's as good as my brother. I'm sure I used to look at Finn the same way."

"That's why I'm asking," Burt said, slowly, very aware he was walking on eggshells here. "If I remember correctly your feelings for Finn weren't always purely... brotherly."

He looked at Kurt, who was now turning a deep scarlet.

"Dad! There's nothing going on between Blaine and me!" He really didn't want to discuss his love life -or lack thereof- with his dad. "We're just friends!"

He stood up abruptly, grabbing his books to leave, but his dad's voice stopped him.

"Kurt, please... I'm trying here, okay?" Burt took a deep breath before he continued. "I'm not accusing you of anything, or telling you what to do. I was just wondering... if maybe he was the reason... you wanted to be at Dalton."

The words made Kurt freeze, and he could almost feel his father's gaze in his back. Slowly, he turned around, returning to his seat, although he didn't say anything.

"I understand what Barbara said," his father continued, "that it wouldn't be a good idea to switch schools again so close to the end of the semester, and I'm not arguing with that. But Kurt, I can see how hard they make you work there - I've never seen you study like that. And I'm pretty sure Dalton is actually farther away from here than McKinley. So whatever the reason is you initially transferred, it wasn't because it was _easier_. I may be dumb, but I'm not stupid. I'm not buying it, Kurt."

Kurt didn't say anything. He looked at his hands, resting in his lap, thoughts racing through his mind. His dad was bound to find out at one point, he knew that, and he hád planned to tell him, he really had. Just... later. After Christmas, after they'd gotten home, after his dad was better recovered, after... well, just... _later_. And although he really didn't feel like talking about it now, he couldn't lie to his dad. Not again, not when he was asked about it so directly.

And so Kurt told him. About the bullying, that never really stopped, and about how Karofsky had threatened him - he didn't mention the worst of the threats, though, or how the jock had basically cornered him and... well... . He told him about Blaine finding out, and Mrs. Anderson, and about the endless, pointless discussions with coach Sylvester about who would or should be punished how. He told him about Dalton and its non-bullying policy, and how it had welcomed him, how he could feel safe there.

It was quiet in the room after Kurt finished his story, but it wasn't a comforting silence. Kurt had expected his dad to freak out, to get angry, but when that didn't happen there was little to do but to sit and wait. It seemed like hours passed before Burt finally spoke.

"I'm so sorry, Kurt. I'm so, so sorry I wasn't there for you."

Kurt smiled, reaching out for his dad's hand.

"You were, dad. I visited you every day and I told you everything. You were there."

But Burt shook his head. "I'm your father. You're my son. I should've been there, I should've _done_ something..."

"There was just nothing you could do, dad. There was nothing anyone could do."

"Barbara did."

Another smile, and Kurt squeezed his father's hand.

"She did."

Burt put his other hand on his son's, and they sat silent for a while, enjoying the simple fact that they were together, now, that they were there for each other, now - really there.

"You know I can't... I mean... you can't..."

The expression on Burt's face made Kurt almost want to cry. He'd never seen his dad looking utterly lost, and the look of guilt and regret in his eyes was heartbreaking.

"I know," Kurt told him as he got up and hugged him, tight. "I know. It's ok. I'll be ok."

-o0o-

Kurt racked his knuckles on the door quickly, but didn't wait for a reply before entering. After his dad had taken over his study, it had quickly become a habit to study with Blaine in his room. Blaine had freed a little space for Kurt on the large, overflowing desk, preferring to study on his bed himself. That's where he was sitting now, looking up as Kurt closed the door and leaned back against it.

"You alright?"

"I told my dad."

Kurt needn't explain more for Blaine to understand what he was talking about, and the older of the two boys straightened himself a little.

"So... what did he say? Did he freak out?"

"No," Kurt shook his head, walking over to the desk, "although I almost wish he had. You should've seen him. He was so... _sorry_."

"Sorry?" Blaine asked, confused. "What does he have to feel sorry about? He was in the hospital, he couldn't-"

"Not that," Kurt interrupted him. "Well, that too but... he can't keep me at Dalton, Blaine. He just... we don't have that kind of money."

Blaine put down his pen.

"Kurt, I can talk to my mom. She adores you, I'm sure if you just asked, she wou-"

"Blaine... please?"

Kurt turned to his foster brother and it took Blaine only one look to understand what he was trying to say.

There was pride, of course - pride to be independent, to not need the Anderson's money, or their charity, but there was more to it than that. Dalton had been good to Kurt - it had given him a break he'd more than needed and deserved, and more importantly, it had shown him that what he had been through was not a foretaste of what was going to come: it could be different, and it would be. Dalton had given Kurt what Blaine had wished him - courage. Because however much Blaine told him there was no honor in fighting a lost battle, Kurt still felt guilty for running away from his problems, for leaving his friends. So no, it wouldn't be easy, and yes, it was freaking him out on more than one level, but going back to McKinley gave Kurt the chance to face his demons with renewed energy, and renewed confidence. Because he _knew_, now, that it would get better.

And if there was one thing Blaine understood, it was the need to fight his own battles. So he simply gestured towards the desk.

"You better start studying then, little brother - don't even think for a moment Burken's going to go easy on you because you're transferring out."

He winked at Kurt, who smiled back and turned around quickly to hide the blush appearing on his cheeks. He'd learned quickly that spending more time in Blaine's presence would not render him immune for that fluttering feeling Blaine's winks always seemed to induce - on the contrary even. Kurt sat down and shook himself mentally. Study, that's where his priority had to be. He couldn't help but glance back at Blaine though - but he immediately turned back to stare at his book, his blush deeper than ever. Blaine had still been watching him.

.

They had been studying in silence for over two hours when Kurt decided he desperately needed a break. He stood up from his chair, walking over to the other side of the room in an attempt to get the blood flowing through his legs again. Blaine was still sitting on his bed, legs crossed, looking at his Chemistry notes as if they were written in Chinese. Clearly, studying wasn't going well for either of them. Kurt stopped before Blaine's DVD-rack, thinking maybe he could pick out a movie for them to watch later, when his eyes fell on the cupboard immediately adjacent to it. It was filled with books, mostly, but one of the shelves was stuffed with something completely different - pictures, and ribbons, and trophies: Blaine's horse riding prizes.

Kurt threw a quick glance at Blaine before he stepped closer to the cupboard. He'd wanted to take a closer look at them after his conversation with Kyle a few weeks earlier, but for some reason, hadn't gotten around to it before.

There was a layer of dust covering the collection, which was rather odd seeing as Kevin was usually very meticulous when it came to cleaning. Kurt was pretty sure that those cups hadn't seen a duster in at least a year, though, and he couldn't help but think what a pity it was to see the trophies lose their shine. There were a couple of pictures there as well. One showed a much younger looking Blaine standing next to Meryem, carefully holding a small boy who was sitting on top of the horse. Both of them seemed to be having a great time, smiling broadly into the camera. There was a headshot of a brown, rather plain looking horse, and an action shot of Blaine -or so Kurt presumed-, bent over closely over his horse's neck as they hung mid-air over a brightly colored fence. Judging by Blaine's clothes, the picture was probably taken on the same day as the first one.

"How come you never taken me to see your horse?"

Now there was one question Kurt had never thought he'd ever hear himself say out loud... . Blaine looked up from his books, a surprised and -Kurt thought- slightly apprehensive look on his face.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing...it's just... I was wondering. You showed me around the house and the garden and the pool... but you never showed me the stables."

For a few seconds, Blaine just stared, and Kurt was almost afraid the older boy would throw him out of the room until he finally spoke.

"I didn't think you'd be interested. You're not exactly the horse-riding type."

"How do you even know?"

Kurt planted his hands in his hips, lips pouting, trying to look indignant. He failed miserably, though, and they both burst out laughing. It relieved a tension Kurt hadn't even noticed was there.

"Why the sudden interest in Tornado?"

"Nothing. As I said, just... curious. I saw your trophy collection," Kurt pointed with his thumb, nervously wiggling back and forth on his heels, "and I never realized you- wait, what, _how _is the name of the horse?"

"Tornado. Like Zorro's horse, you know?"

"Who?" Kurt's mouth fell open, and he almost burst out laughing again. "You named your horse after _Zorro_? Blaine, how old _are_ you?"

"I didn't name him!" Blaine exclaimed, blushing nonetheless. "He had that name when we bought him! Although I do admit, his name _might_ -might!- have helped in the decision process..."

"I cannot believe this..." Kurt shook his head, still grinning.

"I was eight, ok?" Blaine sounded indignant, but a grin was spreading across his face as well.

"So which one is he?" Kurt asked, pointing at the pictures.

"The one on the left," Blaine said, rising up from his bed, "where I'm standing."

Kurt frowned - he had been so convinced that horse was Meryem, because they both had the exact same, white, drop-shaped spot between their eyes. But as he looked closer, he could see that the animal in the picture was much darker than Meryem - a deep, dark brown that was almost black. He was about to comment on how similar both horses looked, when something stopped him. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to let Blaine in on the fact that he had been at the Dalton stables, if his reaction on Kyle's invite a month ago was any indication.

Blaine moved behind him, reaching over to take the picture. The sudden proximity made Kurt sharply draw in his breath, and he closed his eyes.

"Who's the little boy?" he managed to squeeze out.

If he'd have had his eyes open, he would have seen the sudden tension in Blaine's shoulders, and the way his knuckles whitened as he grasped the picture frame harder. He'd have noticed the hesitation in Blaine's posture and the way he, too, closed his eyes for a second before he answered. But as it was, Kurt didn't notice anything but the accelerated beating of his own heart.

"That's... Nicky. He's... was... he liked horses, a lot. He always hung around the riding school and he'd... " Blaine took a deep breath, "he'd come along to competitions once in a while."

"You look really happy, both of you," Kurt said, turning around.

Blaine smiled, his shoulders relaxing a little bit.

"That was my last win with Tornado. Third consecutive first place at the Ohio State Youth Championship - I broke my personal best that day." He pointed at the action shot. "I was so nervous... . Winning that trophy - that was one of the best days of my life."

Blaine looked back at the picture he was holding, a strange expression on his face that Kurt couldn't really place. There was pride, melancholy, and that look people had whenever they thought of a happy memory. But there was something else there as well - guilt, maybe, or remorse? It was hard to tell.

"Then why did you quit?"

The question escaped him before he even realized it, and Kurt looked away when he saw Blaine's face harden. Why was it that talking to Blaine was always so easy, unless the topic of conversation was horse riding?

"I just did," Blaine said bluntly, putting the frame back with a thud. "I lost my interest."

Kurt huffed as he watched him return to his bed.

"Now there's something I don't buy," he said, more to himself than anything else.

"What?"

Kurt startled - he hadn't expected Blaine to actually hear him.

"I said - if you really didn't care anymore, then why did you keep all the trophies and the ribbons? Why didn't you sell Tornado?"

"You really _are_ curious, aren't you?"

Despite the still serious look on Blaine's face, his tone was rather amused, and Kurt took the chance.

"Oh, how shall I put this?" he asked innocently, slowly walking towards Blaine's bed. "Because I can be honest with you, can't I? We are brothers, after all, and brothers can trust each other completely. Brothers don't need to keep anything from each other. Brothers are always there to listen. Brot-"

"Kurt," Blaine interrupted him, smiling slyly, "are you using my own words against me?"

Kurt winked at him. When Blaine had found out just how much Kurt had _not_ been telling him about the bullying at school, he had given Kurt a long, heartfelt, but mostly repetitive speech on brotherhood much like the one Kurt had just given him, and Kurt had been waiting for an opportunity just like this to turn the roles around.

"Not unless you're keeping things from me," he said playfully, sinking onto the bed on his knees.

But Blaine raised his hands, rubbing his face.

"You're making this into such a bigger deal than it really is."

"So tell me."

"No."

"Why not? If it's not a b-"

"KURT!"

Blaine had shouted, and if anything, it was that what made Kurt shut up. He had never heard Blaine shout before, and by the looks of it it meant that his foster brother was close to losing his patience.

"This is not about keeping things from you," Blaine said, visibly forcing himself to stay calm. "It lost its appeal. I lost interest. I quit. Alright?"

Kurt nodded silently, still very much impressed by Blaine actually shouting at him. That had not been his intention. At all. He let his eyes drift around the room, scared of looking Blaine in the eyes, when he caught sight of the guitar in the corner. Maybe he could try to make this right, somehow.

"Do you play the guitar?"

Blaine looked up, surprised, looking as Kurt jumped off of the bed to fetch the instrument.

"No. I mean, not really. My grandfather tried to teach me but... my talent is singing, not making music."

"O," Kurt looked a bit stumped, feeling ridiculous now standing there with the guitar in his hand. A little awkwardly, he put the guitar back and returned to the bed empty-handed. "You'll just have to hope I've picked up some acappella-skills during my two month-internship at The Warblers, then."

There was a moment of confusion on Blaine's face, but Kurt had started singing already.

_Road trippin' with my two favorite allies  
><em>_Fully loaded we got snacks and supplies  
><em>_It's time to leave this town, it's time to steal away  
><em>_Let's go get lost, anywhere in the U.S.A.  
><em>_Let's go get lost  
><em>_Let's go get lost_

Blaine smiled, taking second voice for the next chorus.

_Blue you sit so pretty west of the One  
><em>_Sparkle light with yellow icing  
><em>_Just a mirror for the sun  
><em>_Just a mirror for the sun  
><em>_Just a mirror for the sun  
><em>_These smiling eyes are just a mirror for_

Kurt could almost feel the tension leave his body when he heard Blaine harmonize with him. He wasn't sure why he'd chosen this song, exactly, it was just the first one that had come to his mind that had an intimate enough sound, but whose lyrics wouldn't embarrass him if he'd be singing it to Blaine.

_So much has come before those battles lost and won  
><em>_This life is shining more forever in the sun  
><em>_Now let us check our heads and let us check the surf  
><em>_Staying high and dry's more trouble than it's worth - in the sun  
><em>_Just a mirror for the sun  
><em>_Just a mirror for the sun  
><em>_These smiling eyes are just a mirror for_

_In Big Sur we take some time to linger on  
><em>_We three hunky dories got our snakefinger on  
><em>_Now let us drink the stars, it's time to steal away  
><em>_Let's go get lost right here in the U.S.A  
><em>_Let's go get lost  
><em>_Let's go get lost_

_Blue you sit so pretty west of the one  
><em>_Sparkle light with yellow icing  
><em>_Just a mirror for the sun  
><em>_Just a mirror for the sun  
><em>_Just a mirror for the sun_

_These smiling eyes are just a mirror for  
><em>_These smiling eyes are just a mirror for  
><em>_Your smiling eyes are just a mirror for_

There was a moment of silence, but it was Kurt who spoke first.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to force anything out of you."

Blaine lifted his hand, but then decided against whatever it was he had been thinking of doing, and he let it drop back in his lap.

"I know. And I'm sorry for yelling at you."

"Still friends?" Kurt asked.

"Always," Blaine replied, lifting his hand again but putting it on Kurt's knee this time.

"Good," Kurt wouldn't have been able to keep the relief out of his voice if he had wanted to, so he didn't even try. "Could we go downstairs and eat, then, because I'm _starving_!"

Blaine nodded and they jumped off the bed together, and Kurt was out of the door in no time. Blaine, however, lagged behind a little, pausing briefly before the picture he'd shown Kurt. He resisted the temptation to rub his thumb over the little boy's face like he remembered doing so many times. It was no use, he told himself, he would never be able to do that again anyways.

"Blaine?" Kurt's voice came from somewhere down the hall.

Blaine threw a last glance at the shelf before he closed the door behind him.

"Coming!" he called.

* * *

><p><strong><span>Song<span>: Road trippin' - Red Hot Chili Peppers**

**I almost forgot to post this, imagine that! But I promised at least once every 14 days, and since I skipped last week... I'm getting ridiculously excited and nervous about the upcoming chapters - basically, chapters 15 and 16 have been almost completely written and keeping me from continuing where continuation is needed :o. I'll try, during hiatus, to update weekly, on Tuesday as usual...**

**So I'll leave you with just another piece of the puzzle... the next chapter will be the days leading up to Christmas and possibly Christmas itself, although depending on the length of either, the latter may end up as a separate chapter. Then there is New Year's and then... hearts will be broken... and mended... but that's another 5 or 6 chapters away.  
>Now, I want New Year's to be a light and fun chapter to give a bit of fresh air before the angst strikes, so I was thinking of actually listening to some of my reviewers for a change, and have some classmates of Blaine and Kurt over for a big big party... what do you guys think? Any suggestions?<strong>


	12. Christmas holidays  part 1

"We're done! DONE! Can you believe it? Two whole weeks of holidays! I'm SO ready for that!"

Tiago was jumping up and down, almost crushing Kurt in the process, barely able to contain his enthusiasm. They had just left their classroom where they had received the results of the past exam period. Kurt was rather pleased with himself, seeing as his GPA had only dropped 0.2 points - he really had feared the worst after seeing some of the questions. That was one thing he was _not_ going to miss at McKinley, that was for sure.

"You enjoy your holidays," Kurt smiled, patting his classmate on the shoulder. He still had some papers to write to make up for the exams he had skipped, but he wasn't going to ruin his friend's holiday mood with details like that. "But I need to go, I have to find Blaine. Take care!"

"This better not be the last time I see you!" Kurt heard Tiago call after him. "Promise me you'll come visit again!"

Kurt turned to the boy, raising his hand in silent agreement as he made his way to the exit backwards. It was still hard to believe that even after only two months at Dalton, he had actually made friends here, who wanted to hang out with him, who even cared about him, whose reaction to him coming out was "So, do you have a boyfriend?" rather than an insult or an awkward silence. Granted, he found the question more unnerving than the awkward silence, but that was hardly the point.

He almost had looked over Blaine in the main corridor between the hustle and bustle of hundreds of blazer-clad students, all cramming to get home for the holidays as soon as possible, when he finally spotted him.

"Hey there! Ready to go?"

"Yes. No!" Blaine used Kurt's shoulder to stabilize him as he stood on his toes, looking around for something or someone. "I just wanted to... say... goodbye to... _there_!"

He let go of Kurt and disappeared in the mass of boys, leaving Kurt to chase after him between the many bodies, until he literally bumped into his foster brother outside on the main steps.

"Damn, Blaine, you can't just run off like that and-"

Kurt stopped mid sentence as he noticed Blaine wasn't paying attention to him in the least. He stood, frozen, his eyes transfixed on the parking lot in front of the school and following Blaine's gaze, Kurt finally saw what he was looking at.

A girl had just jumped out of a shiny black BMW. She vaguely reminded Kurt of Quinn Fabray, although this girl was taller, with long hair that was waving in the wind as she ran towards one of the Dalton boys. He was obviously a boarder, because he was carrying two suitcases, both of which dropped on the ground when the girl flew him around the neck. The hug threw them both almost of balance and the boy's arms were waving around in an attempt to keep their balance. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he returned the embrace, closing his arms around the girl carefully, as if he was afraid to hurt her. It wasn't until they finally pulled away from each other, however, that Kurt was able to recognize the boy.

Kyle.

_"Thank the stars he's straight_" was Kurt's first thought, but he immediately scolded himself - this was no time to be selfish. Blaine looked like he was either going to burst into tears or skin the girl alive, and Kurt wasn't going to let either of those happen in public.

He grabbed Blaine by the arm, pulling him to his car and much to Kurt's relief Blaine didn't struggle at all, but let himself be pushed down in the passenger seat. By the time Kurt had moved to the driver's side and got into the car, Blaine had slumped against the window, staring out. He didn't move when they pulled out of the parking lot, and no matter what Kurt said or asked, he couldn't get more than one syllable-answers out of him. By the time they drove onto the Lima Bean's parking lot, Kurt was more than sick of it.

"What? Kurt, we... why are you stopping here?" Blaine asked, bewildered, when he finally noticed they'd stopped.

"I realize it may have escaped your attention," Kurt said, sounding harsher than he actually intended, "but holidays have started and I feel I've deserved a crême brulée to celebrate."

He didn't look back as he stalked out of the car, leaving Blaine to himself to process what he'd just said. It apparently took him a couple of minutes, because Kurt was already seated at a small table near the window, his coffee and a small plate with a piece of blueberry pie in front of him, when Blaine finally joined him.

"You're sitting here on your own?"

It was a stupid thing to say, and Blaine knew it, but he wasn't too sure how to start up a conversation after he'd obviously done something to upset Kurt - although what it was he had no idea.

"Not anymore, it seems. Unless you're gonna start moping again," Kurt told him, taking a bite of his pie.

"I... what! I wasn't moping!"

Blaine appeared flushed and, somehow, embarrassed, and Kurt leaned back in his chair at the sight, cocking his head.

"No, you're right," he said. "You weren't moping. You were _pining_."

The look of indignant relief that had started to appear on Blaine's face immediately vanished, making place for shock - but Kurt didn't give him the chance.

"Oh come on, Blaine! After _someone_ didn't show up at Sectionals you refused to come down for dinner. After an argument with a certain _someone _at lunch my first day at Dalton you locked yourself in your room for two days straight. You haven't said a single word since we left school today when _someone_ was picked up by his girlfriend. And don't you even dare to pretend we both don't know who I'm talking about here. You, my dearest brother," Kurt said, emphasizing every word with his fork, "are pining."

"Am not!" Blaine retorted, but it didn't sound convincing.

"Hardcore pining, I'm telling you," Kurt shook his head, quite unfazed, and took another piece of pie.

"It's not like that!"

Blaine stopped when he saw a single of Kurt's eyebrows rise, and he let out a sigh.

"Ok... _a bit_. Maybe. I just... I like Kyle, ok? He's my best friend and that girl... she's just not right for him, Kurt. I _know_ she's not."

Kurt hardly even heard the rest of the speech, the three short words tossing and turning in his head. _I like Kyle_. It wasn't even the words themselves, but rather the way in which they had been said, the way Blaine's eyes had lit up, the way he had bobbed his head as he always did when he was excited over something.

_I like Kyle_.

Honestly, it wasn't as if Kurt hadn't known - or suspected, at least. He'd called Blaine out on it, after all. But still, some part of him had hoped it wasn't true, that he had misinterpreted the looks and the smiles, that he had misjudged Blaine's need for Kyle's approval in almost any area. But deep inside, he had known. He had known from the moment Blaine had completely ignored him in favor of crushing Kyle in a hug at the first Warblers' concert he'd been to. It was part of the reason why he had never really dared to "get his moves on", as Mercedes so eloquently put it.

It didn't mean it hurt any less to hear it, though.

"... never even talks about her. When has the long distance thing ever worked for anyone? Honestly, from the moment he told me I had this feeling that-"

"Wait, what?" Kurt interrupted him. He had obviously missed something here. "You _knew_ Kyle had a girlfriend?"

Blaine shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his fingers playing nervously with one of the napkins on the table.

"Well... yeah. He told me they started dating not even a week after he k- ... a week after he came home from holidays. She's a friend of the family, or something, I don't even know."

But Kurt was lost in his own thoughts again. Part of him felt strangely relieved - he wasn't the only gay who had ever made the mistake of falling in love with a straight guy. But mostly he just wanted to scream at Blaine -_ why would you even do that? Why would you even let yourself fall in love with a guy you _KNOW _is straight, worse, has a girlfriend?_ He knew it wouldn't make a difference, though: he remembered all too well how nothing Rachel or even Mercedes had said had been able to stop him from believing he had an actual shot at Finn.

"Do you trust Kyle?", he asked instead.

Blaine shot him a surprised look. "Of course I trust him. Best friends, remember?"

"Then why don't you trust him if he says that he likes this girl? As his best friend, shouldn't you support him?"

"I... guess..." Blaine didn't look convinced.

"Look, Blaine... I know you think this girl isn't right for him," _but neither are you_, "but this is his call to make. His decision. And if the worst comes and it turns out you were right, you should be there for him, preferably without any 'I told you so's. But until then, shouldn't you just be happy that he's found someone?"

Blaine sighed, wiping the remnants of his shredded napkin together in a little pile.

"I know... you're right. I'll try."

They sat together for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts, until a small grumble disturbed the silence between them, and Blaine looked up.

"Are you still going to eat that pie?"

Kurt didn't answer but he pulled his plate a bit closer, cutting off another piece with his fork in clear demonstration.

"Weren't you going to get crême brulée, by the way?"

"They were out. Their blueberry pie is the next best thing though. Wanna try?"

Kurt pointed to the remainder of the pie, and as Blaine nodded he cut it in half, pricked a piece on the fork and held it out for Blaine to take. Before he knew it, however, Blaine leaned forward, closing his mouth around the end of the fork, sliding off the piece of pie. For a moment, Kurt was so stunned he almost let go of the fork.

"Mmmh... it really _is_ good," Blaine commented, chewing happily.

But the quality of the blueberry pie was now completely irrelevant to Kurt.

_I have just fed Blaine blueberry pie_, was all he could think. By any description in his vast collection of romcoms, that counted as something terribly, cheesily, romantic. But Blaine had just as good as confessed to being in love with Kyle. Was he just messing with Kurt?

Kurt looked over at him, but the other boy was completely engrossed in a magazine that someone had apparently left on their table, seemingly unaware of the turmoil he had released in Kurt's head. There was a bit of blueberry jelly left right next to the corner of Blaine's mouth, and Kurt watched him as he wiped it away with his thumb, taking a short glance at it before he licked it off. He swallowed. _Oh my stars, I have to get out of here._

He threw down his fork and stood up, throwing his bag over his shoulder.

"I think we should go. My dad will be wondering where I am."

"But... your pie!" Blaine called after him.

"You have it!"

With a few determined steps, Kurt made his way to the door, longing for the fresh December breeze that would hopefully cool the blush that he could feel burning on his cheeks. He could only hope Blaine hadn't noticed.

But Blaine hád noticed. In fact, it was the very reason he had not simply taken over the fork but had opted for the more cheesy alternative. He knew he shouldn't be messing with his little brother like that, but Kurt just looked so utterly... _adorable_ when he was flustered and it was just too easy to make him blush. Just like Kyle... .

He shook his head. Kurt was right - he had to stand by Kyle no matter who he chose. And if that was Jennifer... then he would have to learn to accept that.

-o0o-

Later that day, they were all sitting together in the living room. It was almost a scene from one of those corny, horrible Christmas movies, Kurt thought as he looked around him. His dad was lying in the couch, watching one of the reality shows he was so fond of, while Blaine was standing on a chair, decorating the christmas tree - on the day before Christmas Eve it was long overdue, but they simply hadn't gotten around to doing it before.

Kurt himself sat at the table with Mrs. Anderson, writing christmas cards. Actually, Mrs. Anderson was writing the cards, and, courtesy of his gracious handwriting, Kurt had been put in charge of writing the addresses on the envelopes. It looked all comfy and cosy, and it was just what Kurt needed after the frenzy of two weeks of Dalton exams.

"Mrs. A? This address has been struck through... I skip it?" he asked, showing her the four page address list he'd been given and pointing at the one he was having trouble with.

"Oh no, honey, they've probably just moved... here... ," she flicked through the pages until the end, "the new addresses are at the bottom, see?"

Kurt nodded, twirling his wrist before starting to copy down the correct address. He was barely halfway through the list of former Anderson foster children, and already his wrists felt like they were on fire.

"Are these really all foster kids, Mrs. A?" he asked, "How long have you been doing this?"

"I started some time after Blaine was born, I think?" Mrs. Anderson answered, looking up from her cards with a pensive look. "When he started kindergarten or so... I knew I wouldn't have any more kids of my own, and I had time on my hands anyways. And it seemed fun for Blaine to have some friends to play with."

"So much fun," Blaine confirmed, "every time I started bonding they'd leave again. It's a miracle I turned out so sociable, really."

He made it sound sarcastic, but there was a soft undertone to his voice, and Mrs. Anderson smiled at him.

"Blaine has always been quick to attach to people," she said, turning to Kurt, "it was partly why he was always so great with making the kids feel at home... especially the little ones. There'd be tears on both sides each time someone had to leave."

"Mom!"

Blaine was actually blushing - whether from humbleness after his mother's compliment or embarrassment at her implication he'd often cried, Kurt didn't know, but he _did_ know the sight of Blaine blushing made his stomach do somersaults.

"It's true!" Mrs. Anderson exclaimed, before putting her hand on Kurt's arm, leaning forward a little bit while she whispered: "Blaine is a really sensitive boy, you know - he cried for hours on end after _The Snowman_."

"I was four!"

Kurt bit his lip to keep himself from laughing out loud when he saw the color on Blaine's cheeks deepen even further. It looked incredibly cute on him.

"Don't worry about it, Blaine," Burt's voice came from the other side of the living room - he had obviously not been so invested in his tv show as Kurt had thought. "I can count the number of movies that Kurt _hasn't_ cried at on one hand."

It was Blaine's turn to snicker now and Kurt felt his face redden.

"I'm not afraid to show my feelings, that's all!" he tried to defend himself.

"I rest my case," Burt replied with a wink to his son before he returned his attention to the tv.

Kurt sent his dad a death stare and resolved to switching subjects before any more embarrassing stories could be shared.

"So you'd rather have had just one sister or brother, then?" he asked Blaine.

Blaine stepped down from his chair, and appeared to be thinking as he took more baubles out of a big, red box.

"Not really," he replied, stepping back up, "most people only have one or two siblings to learn from, I've had 30 or 40. There are few things that teach you there's more than one perspective on almost everything than living with complete strangers."

Kurt gasped - he knew it was a long list of addresses he had before him, but he hadn't actually _counted_ them. The sheer number was daunting to him.

"You had FORTY foster children?" he asked Mrs. Anderson. "How can you have had so many?"

"Actually, you're the thirty fourth, if I'm not mistaken," she smiled, "but you have to know not all of them were here for long. I did emergency intakes for a long time: we'd take in those kids who really had nowhere else to go, until a more permanent solution would be found. Some ended up staying for a year or more, but mostly they would only be here for a couple of weeks or even days. The dates are in the last column, see?"

She pointed at the right margin of the paper, where Kurt could indeed see two sets of dates besides each name. As Mrs. Anderson had said, there was a lot of variability in the duration of the stays, and as the names seemed to be sorted by the dates they had left the Anderson's, Kurt could see there had been several occasions on which more than one kid had stayed with them at the same time.

"I still like to keep in touch with all of them, though, even if they were only here for a short time," Mrs. Anderson said as she eyed the list with a smile, obviously remembering each and every face that the names belonged to, "I feel it's important, you know?"

Kurt nodded. He'd been wondering how it would be when he would leave the Andersons, and although he had really started to look forward to going back to Lima, the thought of staying in touch with this new family of his was strangely comforting.

Mrs. Anderson returned to her cards, and Kurt continued to work his way down the list, referring to the end whenever an address had been crossed out, until he came to the last entry. It wasn't just the address that had been struck through, the whole entry was crossed out, and there didn't seem to be an updated address anywhere.

"Mrs. A - this one doesn't have a replacement address," he said, looking up.

"Well, that shouldn't happen," his foster mother frowned, "what's the name?"

Kurt strained to read the words through the thick stripes.

"Miah... no... Nic... Nicholas. Nicholas Ramsay?"

_DZZINNG!_

"Sorry! Sorry!"

Blaine jumped down from his chair, using his bare hands to pick up the pieces of the glass ball that were scattered all over the floor now. "It's fine, it just slipped, I'll clean it up!"

Kurt let out a breath and relaxed the hand that had automatically grasped at his heart when he had heard the delicate ornament meet its untimely death on the living room floor. It had given him quite a freight, and apparently Mrs. Anderson too, because she looked very pale when he turned back to her.

"Mrs. A? What do you want me to do?"

His foster mother looked a little bewildered, obviously somewhere else with her thoughts when she replied.

"The duster is in the kitchen, under the sink, if you want to help Blaine clean up."

Kurt frowned.

"No... I mean, Nicholas Rim... Ramsay? Do you have another address for him?"

Mrs. Anderson seemed to snap back to reality at the mention of the name and she stood up abruptly, starting to gather the papers on the table.

"No, Kurt, that's ok. We... eh... we lost contact with Nicholas. Moved a couple of times, forgot to pass the new address... you know how it goes. But he was only here for a short time, anyway."

Automatically, Kurt's eyes darted to the last column for Nicholas' entry: 12/03/06 - 07/15/09 flashed before them before Mrs. Anderson took the list away.

"Thank you, Kurt, for your help, but I think I've had enough of Christmas cards for today," Mrs. Anderson said. She looked tired, and more than a little distracted. "I'm just going to put these away."

Kurt's brain was working overtime as he watched Mrs. Anderson clean up the table. First she said she thought it important to keep in touch with _all_ of her foster kids, regardless of how long they had spent at her house. Then she shrugged her shoulders at the loss of contact with one of them? His confusion only increased when he tried to calculate how long the boy had stayed at the Andersons. Two and a half years? But Mrs. Anderson had said he'd only been there for a short time... surely he must've misread the dates. There was no reason Mrs. Anderson would lie about something a trivial as the time a foster child had spent at her house. And if the dates he remembered were correct, it meant Kurt was the first kid staying with them in over a year - and with Mrs. Anderson's obvious enthusiasm for foster care, Kurt doubted that could be right. No, he'd definitely misread the numbers - what with the effort it had taken him to decipher the name, it didn't even surprise him.

* * *

><p><strong>There, have another puzzle piece! You should know where this one fits... ;). Thanks to Sherry &amp; random4ever for helping me with the date format, it is mmdd/yy now (we use yy/mm/dd at work so yeah...).**

**The next chapter will be known as the one in which one dad pisses the other off, and the idea was to have it up on Friday, because it belongs together with this, but it just refuses to be written so I'll see. I'm still on the fence about a New Year's chapter, so we'll see about that, too... .**

**Thank you all for reading, reviewing and sticking with me - it really is immensely appreciated! Also, I've been suddenly gaining quite some readers, so whoever advertised this fic wherever it was, THANK YOU!**


	13. Christmas holidays part 2

When Christmas Eve finally came around, Kurt felt strangely elated. It was partly the holidays, of course, the relief of having survived paper writing marathons and endless study sessions, but it was more than that. Although nobody formally recognized it as such, Christmas dinner would also be the goodbye dinner for the Hummels, as they would start moving back to Lima immediately after. Kurt had resolved to not thinking about it anymore - the excitement of returning home with his dad, the anxiety whenever he thought of McKinley, the completely indescribable feeling that accompanied thoughts of not seeing Blaine every day anymore... it was a reality he simply had to face, and thinking about it wouldn't solve any of it. He would survive. He always did.

.

As Blaine came down for dinner, he didn't exactly feel the Christmas spirit the many decorations were trying to impose on him. He'd gotten so worked up about the image of his best friend's girlfriend picking him up from school that he seemed to be incapable of thinking of something else. He must have repeated Kurt's words in his head a thousand times by now - they had made so much sense yesterday, but right now they appeared hollow, cliché. The thought of not seeing Kyle for two weeks made him feel nauseous, and somehow the fact that Kurt would be leaving -both his house and Dalton- soon as well made matters seem infinitely worse.

All of these thoughts were wiped from his mind, however, as he approached the kitchen and heard the raised voices of his parents through the door.

"... just saying that I'll be happy when he's out the door," his father sounded unapologetic.

"Well, I'm not." His mother. "He's a good kid, and I think it's been really good for Blaine to have somebody like him, his age, to talk to."

Blaine could hear his father scoff.

"That's exactly why having him here hásn't been good for Blaine. It only confirms him in that ridiculous belief that he can be whoever he wants to be."

"Of course he can!"

"He can't!" Michael Anderson's voice rose. "Oh, it all sounds so nice: dream big, be who you want to be, you are unique and perfect... that and all the other bullshit those actors and singers - especially that GooGoo Lady - are brainwashing them with, but it's not true! Or have you forgotten why Blaine -and Kurt, for that matter- had to change schools?"

"Of course I haven't! But just because some people didn't accept them doesn't mean that _they_ are the ones who are wrong."

His mother sounded elated, and strangely bored, as if they'd had this discussion before.

"Maybe it doesn't, but the fact remains that those 'some people' are still the majority in this country, and Blaine is putting his future at risk by making the choices he is currently making! I don't even know which of those Hollywood actors started this despicable trend, but they don't realize how easy it is on them - they have made it, they don't depend on the approval of society anymore. Blaine just doesn't have the luxury to do the same!"

"You know very well Blaine didn't choose to be gay!"

"Oh God, not this again," Mr. Anderson groaned. "He chose to act on it, didn't he?"

Blaine winced when he heard the loud clang with which his mother put down her mug or glass or whatever it was she was holding. He knew her well enough to be able to imagine how she would turn around to face his father, her eyes no doubt blazing with anger.

"Why can't you just _accept_ him? He's a straight A student, he's lead singer of his school choir, he basically succeeds in everything he tries, so why can't you just be proud of him?"

"You forgot to mention how he ran from his previous school, and how he just gave up jumping - he's not mister perfect, Barbara."

"They hit him so badly he had a concussion, Michael. A concussion! Did you really expect him to go back to thát? The question still stands: why can't you be on _his_ side instead of _theirs_?"

"Look, all I'm saying is I don't want this whole... _gay_ thing to turn out to have been a phase, because once that is out there, he cannot take it back. And he needs to understand exactly what he's going to face once he leaves his little Dalton bubble!"

"Oh, yes, that makes so much sense. Hasn't it crossed your mind he might be able to face things better _if he had a father that actually supported him?_"

"I LOVE MY SON!" Mr. Anderson thundered, slamming his fists on the table so hard Blaine could hear the door rattle in its frame. "So don't you _dare_ insinuate I do not support him!"

For a few seconds, it was completely silent, and Blaine thought his father might have actually left the kitchen through the other door when he heard him speak again, much quieter now.

"I would do everything I could to make sure Blaine is happy - I would. I'm just trying to be realistic. The world is a hostile place. And when his dreams have come true and he's a world famous singer songwriter he can go and love whoever he wants - hell, he can marry the Loch Ness monster for all I care, if it makes him happy. But right now he's seventeen, and things will be hard enough out there as it is - he does not have the luxury to just be... _gay_. So why is it so wrong to want a normal life for him?"

"Michael, please..."

"No, Barbara, no. I'm sick and tired of everyone telling me how I should treat my son, how I should 'accept' him if I truly love him. Because it is exactly because I love him that I cannot accept how he possibly throws away so many chances and opportunities by letting his feelings get in the way of his future. And I don't care what you say, I will not apologize for wanting the best for my son."

This time, Blaine heard his father's footsteps come in his direction, and he quickly ducked away behind a corner. But even after his dad had passed him, he stayed there, crouched against the wall.

It wasn't the first time he'd heard his parents argue, and he doubted it would be the last. It was just what they did. He'd never walked in on them discussing _him_, though. And while it had been... interesting... to hear exactly how his father thought about him being gay (some of his father's previously hurtful statements were actually starting to make sense now), that wasn't what had shocked Blaine the most.

He'd never heard his dad say he loved him before.

He had _supposed_ he did, because, well, that was what fathers did, after all. He had _hoped_ he did, despite the obvious differences in opinion of... lifestyle choices, to put it that way. But he had never actually heard him say the words, never actually heard his dad say that he wanted Blaine to be happy.

"Blaine?"

Blaine looked up to see Kevin standing over him, looking confused. He quickly scrambled up.

"I was just... eh... just... sitting here," he stuttered, not sure what kind of explanation would justify his sitting on the floor in the middle of the hallway.

"Maybe you should try sitting in the living room instead?" Kevin suggested, eyebrows raised. "It might be slightly more comfortable. Not to mention more sociable."

Blaine cracked a small smile.

"Of course. I was just on my way actually." He pointed to the living room door, shuffling towards it. "To the living room!"

Kevin shook his head as he watched Blaine slip through the door. There were many adjectives that came to his mind when he tried to describe Blaine, but 'normal' never was one of them.

.

The rest of Christmas Eve passed rather uneventful - uneventful for an Anderson Christmas, at least. Blaine blaimed the presence of Burt and Kurt - not that he was complaining: it was nice to have an ordinary Christmas Eve for once, without drama. Just eating turkey, unwrapping presents, singing christmas carols with Kurt, seeing their parents get slightly drunk... . It was so simple that it felt almost ridiculous to be grateful for it, but after the Thanksgiving disaster it was all Blaine could ask for, especially since he knew that in a couple of days, the soothing influence of the Hummels would be gone. And so he enjoyed the evening for as long as it lasted.

-o0o-

"I think that's the last one."

Blaine heaved the box into the back of Kurt's Navigator, closing the door carefully. Usually, Kevin would take on the task of packing and moving everything, but Blaine had insisted he helped the Hummels himself. He had lost track of the number of trips they'd made back and forth over the last two days -seriously, how much stuff could two people gather over the course of only three months?-, but now, finally, Kurt and Burt's room was empty, and Kurt was ready to leave to Lima where his dad was waiting for him.

"Thanks," Kurt said, smiling nervously. "I guess we're ready to go, then!"

He looked up at Blaine, trying to hide how his fingers were tugging at the hem of his shirt nervously, how desperately he wanted to hug Blaine before they left. They'd hugged plenty of times before, obviously, but somehow this was different, more definite. He didn't want it to be goodbye.

Before he could decide what to do, however, Blaine pulled him in, wrapping his arms around him.

"You take care of yourself, ok?" Blaine whispered in his ear before he broke away from him. "You'll always be my brother, so if something happens -_anything_-, let me know, ok?"

Kurt nodded, but Blaine cupped his face with both hands, forcing Kurt to look him in the eyes.

"Promise?"

"Promise," Kurt breathed.

"Good," Blaine tapped Kurt's cheek before he completely let go of the boy, "now you go remind McKinley who Kurt Hummel is!"

Kurt smiled, forcing himself to turn around and climb into the car. He waved as he pulled out of the drive way, and when he turned on the street, he could see Blaine wave back, bending his hand so it looked like a "C". Kurt had seen coach Sylvester make the gesture one too many times after Sue's Corner, but coming from Blaine, Kurt knew what it meant.

Courage.

-o0o-

"10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 - HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

Kurt cheered as the confetti whirled around him. He blew the kazoo somebody had pressed into his hands just seconds ago, jumping up and down along with the others. Mercedes gave him a broad smile as she threw her arms around his neck.

"Happy New Year, white boy!" she yelled, trying to make herself understandable over the music and all the cheering.

"Happy New Year to you too, 'Cedes!" he yelled back.

He watched her bounce over to Sam and Finn to wish them happy New Year as well, but turned around when he caught sight of Mike and Tina making the most of their New Year's kiss, only to be greeted by the sight of Puck and Lauren making out. He sighed. This was definitely a part of the celebration he had nót been looking forward to.

He suddenly froze when he felt two arms closing in around him from behind.

"I can't kiss you, but maybe you could spare me a New Year's hug?" a familiar voice sounded in his ear, and he spun around to find himself looking into a pair of hazel brown eyes.

"Well?"

Blaine looked at him questioningly, and Kurt nodded ("Of course."), fighting the urge to swallow the lump that had grown in his throat in a matter of seconds. He let his foster brother wrap his arms around him, returning the hug a little more reluctantly.

"You know, I've already missed you in those five days you were gone," Blaine told him, "the house is so empty without you."

They pulled apart, and Kurt was frantically trying to think of a snarky reply, a sarcastic remark -anything to distract him from the whirlwind of feelings in his stomach- when he was saved by Tiago tackling him.

"The happiest of New Years to you, Kurt!"

It had been Mrs. Anderson's idea, really, to invite both the Warblers and the New Directions to the party. _It will be a great way to say goodbye to Dalton, and hello to McKinley_, she had said, _and at least if you're both here I know you won't be getting into trouble_. Kurt and Blaine both knew that what she really meant was she didn't want them getting drunk -the extremely limited amount of wine coolers she had allowed them to stock in the bar was more than enough proof- but with both Puck and David invited, enough bottles of party juice had found their way in to ensure no-one would be forced to stay sober.

It seemed to take forever for everyone to wish each other the best for the new year, but finally, people started dancing again, and Kurt watched Thad pushing past him as he went straight to Rachel.

"Well, hello there beauty," he winked at her, a faint slur already apparent, "would you care to dance with me?"

He held out his hand for Rachel to take, and she immediately obliged, only slightly hesitating when she caught the hurt look Finn was sending her from across the room.

"I would love to!"

Kurt left them to it and made his way to one of the couches. Thad wasn't the only Warbler who was mesmerized by the New Directions girls, he saw, as Jeff seemed to have taken a particular liking on Tina and was now trying to impress her by conjuring up coins from behind her ear. Judging from the sour look on Mike's face, it was actually working, too. Most of the boys were focussed on the stage, however, where Santana and Brittany were demonstrating they would make one hell of a Pussycat Doll when they grew up. Actually, scratch that - they already wére one hell of a Pussycat Doll.

"Does it show there are no girls at Dalton?"

Kurt felt Blaine fall in the couch next to him and smiled up at him.

"It's painfully obvious, I have to say. And you seem painfully sober. I thought you'd be the go-all-out party animal type, and instead you're drinking... ," Kurt gestured at Blaine's cup, "coke?"

"Oh, I'll totally go all out, don't worry," Blaine laughed, "but I'd rather do it sober tonight. I don't want to lose the privilege to organize parties before I earned it and I'm pretty sure appearing hungover at breakfast would do just that."

He winked and Kurt quickly looked away, focussing instead on David and Trent who were fighting over which song they'd do next - 'I'm too sexy' by Right Said Fred, or The Offspring's 'Pretty fly'. Trent unsurprisingly drew the short straw ("I don't care if Blaine has performed songs by black women, I am NOT singing I'm a 'white guy'!") and soon David's baritone filled the room.

_I'm too sexy for my love  
>too sexy for my love<br>love's going to leave me..._

By the uncoordinated way David was moving Kurt wasn't surprised that the 'love was going to leave him', but then again, what did he know. The girls seemed to appreciate the performance though and that was obviously the goal, so he guessed it was all good.

"And now I want to dance with my girl Brittany!" David shouted through the microphone when he'd finished the song. "Kurt! Sing!"

Kurt's head snapped up.

"What, me? Why?"

"Because I say so! Sing us something! Something slow and romantic!"

"Something French!" Nick shouted from where he was still flirting with Tina.

David jumped off stage and all but in Kurt's lap, causing the countertenor to throw up his hands in surprise, looking down with horror in David's puppy eyes. Kurt had gotten used to more physical contact with boys since going to Dalton - pats on the shoulder, elbow nudges and even hugs, although the latter really only ever happened with Blaine - but a boy in his lap was definitely a first.

"Please?" David pleaded before dropping his voice to a whisper. "I just really wanna slow dance with Brittany."

"Santana will scratch your eyes out."

"It will be worth it," David insisted. "Pretty please with a cherry on top?"

"Something romantic?"

David's head bobbed up and down.

"In French?"

More bobbing, and Kurt sighed.

"Ok then, get out of my lap."

"I love you!"

David pressed a wet, sloppy kiss on Kurt's cheek before he gave in to the request, and Kurt quickly rose up, wiping his cheek with his sleeve with a look of disgust on his face. He saw Blaine grinning at him and shot him a death glare before he made his way to the stage. Something romantic. And French. Well, that shouldn't be too hard, should it?

.

_Si tu crois un jour qu'je t'laisserai tomber  
>pour un détail, pour une futilité<br>n'aie pas peur je saurais bien  
>faire la différence<em>

Kurt looked around the room to the couples slowly dancing to the music. Much to his surprise, David was still holding on to Brittany. Puck and Lauren were not so much dancing as they were keeping each other up, and Jeff was looking miserable as a smug Mike was guiding Tina around the dance floor.

_Si tu crains un jour qu'je t'laisserai fâner  
><em>_la fin de l'été, un mauvais cap à passer  
><em>_n'aie pas peur personne d'autre n'pourrait  
><em>_si facilement te remplacer_

"Boy can sing, can't he?"

Blaine looked aside to see Mercedes slide on the couch next to him. The song wasn't particularly challenging for Kurt's voice, but Blaine couldn't imagine anyone else to bring the same vulnerability to the song as Kurt did, so he nodded.

"You know, I used to have the biggest crush on him," Mercedes sighed, looking at Kurt so dreamy-eyed Blaine was wondering for a second if the past continuous was the right tense to use in this case. He followed her stare and found himself smiling.

"I can see why," he said, "he's a wonderful person. I envy the guy who finds the way to his heart."

To his surprise, Mercedes started giggling uncontrollably, making him suspect the wine cooler she was holding wasn't exactly her first.

"Oh please, Blaine," she poked his ribs with her elbow, "like you don't know you're already there. I'm just warning you... ," she leaned closer to him, lifting her finger at him as if he was a toddler, "you break his heart and I will break your skinny. white boy. legs."

For some reason, this sent her in a new giggling fit, but Blaine hardly paid attention - he felt his jaw drop as he stared at her.

"He... you... I... I mean, whát!"

But Mercedes was already gone, taking the hand Trent was offering her.

"Ooooooh... gotta go!"

She let herself be dragged on the dance floor, giving Blaine a little wave before she left him sitting on the couch, feeling thoroughly confused.

Did Mercedes just tell him that Kurt was... in love with him?

_Oh non pas toi_  
><em>vraiment pas toi<em>  
><em>parce que j'avoue j'suis pas non plus tenté<em>  
><em>d'rester seule dans un monde insensé<em>

His mind slowly filled with memories - Kurt blushing when Blaine complimented him, Kurt only slowly relaxing whenever they would hug, Kurt switching subjects every time Blaine would pry if there wasn't a boy he particularly liked. He had blamed it on Kurt's inexperience and natural reserve, had never even once considered this other possibility, this scenario that suddenly explained things so much better. It wasn't that Blaine wasn't attracted to Kurt, he was, and he loved him like a brother, he had tóld him that and... oh god...

Blaine groaned, burying his face in his hands. How could he have been so blind? As he opened his eyes again, he caught Kurt looking at him. It was only a moment, but the timing was too perfect to have been a coincidence.

_Parce que c'est toi_

Blaine hadn't paid attention to the song too much before -despite Kurt's tutoring his French was all but solid- but this much he understood.

_Because it's you_

To be fair, there was little need for translations - the look in Kurt's eyes confirmed everything Mercedes had hinted at and for some reason Blaine had to fight the urge to run to the stage, to take Kurt in his arms, to ask him why he never said anything and ... apologize. Or something. He felt his heart sink as he though about all the times he had teased Kurt, never shying away from physical contact, how they had always talked about everything, about... Kyle... .

It was as if the horror of the situation only now hit him full in the face when he remembered the conversation he had had with Kurt not even two weeks ago. How had Kurt survived that talk? How had he found the strength to even initiate it? Blaine thought about how Kurt had all but fled the coffee shop afterwards, and he cringed again as he realized how hard it must have been for his little brother. And he... he'd _flirted _with him. He'd asked for a New Year's hug. _He'd told him he missed him_.

He stood up abruptly, making for the door. He needed some fresh air - stat.

.

Kurt saw Blaine push through the crowd, walking out of the room. He felt a bit hurt - sure, he understood Blaine might need to go to the bathroom or go get something, maybe, but did he really have to do it right during his song? As his eyes scanned his audience he caught sight of Mercedes. She looked relaxed, dancing closely to Trent, and he figured there might be something in the making there when she caught Kurt's eye and gave him two thumbs up.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Song<em>: Parce que c'est toi - Axelle Red**

**Okay... so this is... two weeks behind on schedule? It wouldn't work the way I planned it, so I finally shook**** things**** up a bit (hence no confrontation between daddy Hummel and daddy Anderson). The upside of this is that I finished the next two chapters while trying to fix this one, and I am... extremely nervous. About this chapter -because it may come across as filler, and I'm not 100% happy with the New Year's party- and about the next two, because they should answer a lot, if not all of the questions that were raised in the previous chapters, and I hope I will not disappoint.**

**So, what I'm gonna do is to compensate the tardiness and the slow pace of the story is: leave this here today, and post the other two on Saturday and Sunday, respectively. I will probably shit my pants over reviews, so please forgive me if I don't read/respond to them until Monday. I'm guessing by then everyone will be so worked up about 11/8 nobody will notice I will skip Tuesday for posting, and I'll resume to my semi-regular schedule after that.**

**Random thoughts: sorry I couldn't give you guys a New Years kiss... / but at least Blaine isn't oblivious anymore / also: meet my mother / she dressed up as Mr. Anderson for the occasion / and yes, she actually said most of that and more when I came out / if you'd like me to translate the song, just PM or drop me an ask / I think that's all / bye folks!**


	14. Rollercoaster

"_No."_

"_But..."_

"_The answer's no, Blaine."_

"_Kyle, please..."_

"_I'm sorry."_

_(I can't.)_

-o0o-

Kurt stared down at his phone, rereading the text he'd just received for what had to be the tenth time.

_From: Blaine  
><em>_Sent: February 3 2011 21:46:36  
><em>_Are you home? Can I come over?_

His fingers flicked over the touch screen, quickly composing a reply saying that yes, he was home and yes, of course Blaine could come over. Actually, Kurt wasn't sure how his dad would feel about the late night visit, but there was simply no way he would let Blaine down if he could help it.

Well, that, and he really, really wanted to see Blaine again.

Ever since Kurt had returned to McKinley, the closeness that had grown between Blaine and him over the previous months had slowly started to dissipate. Sure, Blaine had called him first thing after Kurt's first day, and they had gone for coffee after school once or twice, but Blaine had been notably more distant. He had been as caring and as supportive as ever, but there was something about the way he phrased his sentences, something about the way he behaved around Kurt - as if he was scared he was going to hurt him in some way. But as much as Kurt missed the quick touches and flirty remarks, he had to admit it made it easier to be around Blaine, to relax, to slowly... let go.

He had just opened the doors of his wardrobe to pick out something less casual than what he was wearing when the doorbell rang. Kurt cursed silently under his breath as he checked the time - barely three minutes had passed since he'd replied to Blaine's text: the boy had had to have been really close to have gotten there that quickly. But there was no time for pondering or cursing, and Kurt all but ran to get to the front door before his dad did. He got there just as the bell rang a second time and as he put his hand on the lever, he took a second to close his eyes and breathe. It was Blaine, he reminded himself - just Blaine.

But it wasn't.

It was a tiny, wet heap of human that vaguely resembled Blaine, but it wasn't Blaine. It couldn't be Blaine, not with those puffy eyes, that red nose, and that look of complete and utter devastation. That wasn't Blaine - not the Blaine Kurt knew, at least.

"Come in, come on, you must be freezing!" Kurt pulled him in when he finally recovered from seeing his friend looking so lost. "What the hell even happened to you?"

"Who's there?" Burt's voice came from the living room.

Kurt hesitated a moment, giving Blaine a once-over before calling back.

"It's Blaine! He's just... dropping off some stuff! Come on," he turned to Blaine, "let's get to my room before my dad sees you."

He pushed the boy in front of him towards the basement, silently closing the door behind them as they entered the room. They'd barely reached the bottom of the stairs when Blaine started sobbing, collapsing on the bed as he did so. Kurt stood frozen as he took in the strange sight. Usually he was the one crying, with Blaine comforting him - now that the roles were reversed, he wasn't too sure what to do.

Carefully, Kurt sank down on the bed next to Blaine, tentatively placing his arm around the boy's shoulders. To his surprise, Blaine immediately leaned into the touch, curling up against his chest. He could feel Blaine's tears soaking his t-shirt, hot and cold against his skin, but it didn't seem to be the right moment to be complaining about something as trivial as a ruined shirt when Blaine was in the state he was in. Instead, Kurt just held him, softly stroking his hair, waiting for the sobs to subside and Blaine to calm down.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry..."

Blaine straightened himself and Kurt let him go, watching as the other boy took out a handkerchief to wipe away his tears.

"I'm so sorry to spring this on you, Kurt, so sorry, I know this is hard for you, but I... I didn't know who else to go to."

"You don't have to be sorry, Blaine", Kurt said, softly touching Blaine's arm, "we're brothers, remember? Don't apologize."

Blaine smiled faintly and nodded.

"Thanks."

They sat there for a couple of minutes, silent, until Kurt found the courage to ask what he'd wanted to ask ever since he'd gotten Blaine's text.

"So... what happened?"

Blaine huffed, smiling - but not convincingly.

"I'm an idiot, that's what happened. A stupid, love-struck, naïve idiot."

Kurt felt his stomach twinge at the words and instinctively, he knew. Blaine hadn't once mentioned the other boy whenever they had gotten together, but it seemed that didn't mean he had forgotten about him.

"Kyle?"

"I asked him out," Blaine said, nodding slowly, staring at the floor, "for Valentine's Day."

Kurt couldn't help himself - he felt his jaw drop.

"He turned me down, though, in case you were wondering."

"Well of course he turned you down!" Kurt all but yelled. "He has a girlfriend, remember?"

Blaine's head snapped up, his eyes dark.

"Had. He hád a girlfriend. They broke up."

"That doesn't make him any less straight, now, does it!"

Kurt could barely believe what he was hearing. He knew all too well the temptation of false hope -last year's crush on Finn still fresh in his memory- but even in his wildest dreams and grandest fantasies would he never even have considered asking Finn out.

"Look, Kyle's a great guy, and I get what you see in him, but Blaine... he's straight! And I know it's hard -trust me, I do- but you're just going to have to accept it. We tálked about this!"

"I know! I know, but... ," Blaine sighed, his head dropping into his hands, "I tried to forget, I really did, Kurt, and it was kinda working, it was, I swear, but then he came back from holidays and he said he'd broken up with Jennifer and he let me comfort him and we started hanging out more again because you weren't there anymore and I remembered how we used to be and I just thought that maybe-"

"Maybe what, Blaine?" Kurt interrupted him incredulously. "'Maybe if we hang out enough he'll switch sides?' You can't turn a straight guy gay any more than you can turn a gay guy straight! So why do you keep holding on to this... _delusional_ idea that you actually have a shot at him?"

"Because he kissed me!"

Blaine spat out the words, not even trying to hold back the tears that were welling up once more.

"He kissed me, Kurt! He! Kissed me!"

"Alright, alright, no need to yell," Kurt said indignantly, scooting back a little, "I heard you the first time."

He shifted uncomfortably in his spot, avoiding Blaine's eyes. He knew he didn't have the looks or the charm Kyle had, he knew he was being ridiculous -falling in love with the first gay guy he'd ever met (well... not counting Karofsky...)- but it didn't make it any easier. Falling in love with someone who would never return his feelings was hard - having to comfort said someone after he had his heart broken seemed nothing less than a cruel twist of fate.

But however horrible it felt to know Blaine didn't care about Kurt the same way Kurt did about him, it was even worse to see him the way he was now: devastated, lost, and completely hopeless. And so Kurt shuffled a bit closer, putting his hand on Blaine's arm.

"Maybe he was just... experimenting."

"No," Blaine shook his head determinedly, "that wasn't an experimental kiss. I know what an experimental kiss feels like - and it was nothing like that. You weren't there - you don't know how we got there, you didn't... _feel_ it."

"Then tell me," Kurt whispered.

Blaine looked up at his foster brother - he had expected to find hurt in the other's eyes, and sadness, but all he saw was curiosity, and support. And for a moment Blaine wondered what he had done to deserve a friend like this, a boy who put aside his own feelings to listen to a story that was bound to be hurtful. But he would do it, because he genuinely wanted to hear, because he felt how important it was to Blaine to be able to tell this to someone.

And Blaine told him. How Kyle had been assigned to be his mentor when he first transferred to Dalton, and Blaine had taken an instant liking to him. They hadn't been close that first year, but had bonded the next summer when they'd both gone to some horse riding summer camp.

"He was just... it had been so long since I had met anyone that liked the same stuff I did. And he was so... alive. So vibrant."

Blaine laughed, the first genuine laugh Kurt had heard from him that evening.

"And he just made me feel that way too, you know?"

Kurt feigned a smile and nodded. He knew.

"He knew, of course," Blaine continued, "at least, I think he knew. We never talked about boys -or girls for that matter-, and I never asked if he was... well... . Not that it mattered, I was way too chicken to try anything anyway. But then, last summer..."

Blaine bit his lip, closing his eyes and smiling a little at the memory.

"We'd gone riding. He'd been bugging me for over a year about it and I'd finally... I'd finally given in and he was so proud of me, so proud, and he hugged me. And then when he let go, he was just looking at me with that... _look_. And he kissed me."

Blaine looked up at Kurt, taking his hand.

"God, Kurt, when you get your first kiss -your _real_ first kiss, I mean-, I hope it will be like that. True. And loving. You deserve that. It was... ," Blaine closed his eyes again, "heaven. It was heaven."

Kurt felt a sting of jealousy when he saw the happiness on Blaine's face as he relived the memory of his kiss with Kyle. He wondered how kissing Blaine would be like. Would it feel like heaven, too? And what did heaven feel like, anyway?

"So... why didn't you guys... get together, or something?" he asked.

Blaine shrugged, all traces of happiness wiped off of his face instantly.

"He ignored me for a week. Phone calls, texts, e-mails, ... nothing. Like I didn't even exist. When school started again and he couldn't avoid me any longer he told me it had been a mistake, that he was dating this Jennifer-girl and that I had to forget about him. That it would never work out between us."

He paused, trying to organize his thoughts.

"I got terribly depressed at first. And then terribly angry. But I knéw what I had felt in that moment, and I had seen his eyes: I knéw he had felt the same. And I figured that maybe he just needed time, to figure things out, to come to terms with it all. And he was my best friend, I didn't want to screw that up. And so I waited. We pretended it never happened, and I waited until he was... I don't know... ready, I guess." He huffed. "Guess I haven't waited long enough yet."

Kurt put his hand on Blaine's shoulder, rubbing lightly.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

But Blaine shook his head.

"Don't be. Maybe I díd read it wrong and it was all a big mistake." He smiled at Kurt sadly and shrugged. "Maybe it's a sign we're just not meant to be."

"Or maybe he just needs more time," Kurt said. "It's not an easy thing to come to terms with. And I'm sure he cares about you a whole lot."

It hurt him to say the words, but seeing Blaine's face light up in a small smile somehow made it worth it.

"You," Blaine said as he pulled Kurt in for a hug, "you are the best brother I could ever have asked for."

Kurt wasn't too sure if, as a 'best brother', he was entitled to feeling what he felt, but he did know one thing - if Kyle thought he could play with Blaine's feelings like that, he was terribly mistaken.

-o0o-

The following day Kurt parked his Navigator in his usual spot, noticing that the sign with his license plate was still there. It made him smile, for some reason, the sign a little proof that the two months he'd spent at Dalton had not, in fact, been a dream. As he walked around the main building, there were several students who recognized him, raising their hands to greet him.

"Back already, Hummel?" David yelled.

"You know I could never stay away!" Kurt called back, waving.

He could hear them laugh but didn't stop to talk. He had a feeling Blaine wouldn't approve of what he was planning, so he didn't really want to run into him before he'd gotten a chance to talk to the person he was here to see.

.

"Hey Blaine, where's your little brother?"

The lead Warbler looked up from where he was sitting in the common room, a puzzled look on his face.

"What?"

"Kurt," David explained, dropping into the couch next to him, "I thought he would be here."

"Why would he be here? It's a school day, and last I checked McKinley's two hours away."

David shrugged. "You tell me - I ran into him in the parking lot like 10 minutes ago."

Blaine looked genuinely surprised. "You saw Kurt?"

David shrugged.

"As I said, I saw him in the parking lot, I figured he was here to see you."

"Then where is he?" Blaine asked, ignoring the wink David gave him. Westerville was way out of Kurt's way, so if he was at Dalton, there had to be a good reason. He quickly checked his mobile to see if he'd missed any texts of calls - nothing.

"I saw him going to the back," a small voice suddenly squeaked.

Blaine turned around to find Nate standing in the doorway, cheeks flushed, looking at his feet. Something about the other boy's posture made him uncomfortable, and he tried to ignore the nauseous feeling that was quickly coming over him.

"Where?" he asked.

Nate shifted uneasily in his spot, knowing very well that what he was about to say would most likely cause the other boy to throw a fit. There was one subject everyone at Dalton knew to avoid whenever Blaine was around - but he couldn't not say it.

"The stables," he said softly.

As if on cue, all Warblers' heads snapped to look at Blaine, whose face was now white as a sheet. Nate barely had the time to jump aside to avoid getting run over as Blaine spurted out of the room.

.

"Hi."

"Hi."

Kyle stepped away from the horse he was currying to look at Kurt. The boy was balancing himself on a small patch of grass to avoid getting his boots too dirty - with little success.

"I was wondering if I would see you here anytime soon," he smiled, "seems I was right."

"You... were expecting me?" Kurt asked, taken aback. He had planned to put Kyle in his place for treating Blaine the way he did as quickly and with as much drama as he could, but the other boy's calm demeanor kind of threw him off track.

"Expecting is a big word," Kyle replied, stepping back to continue what he was doing, "but I had a feeling you might. You like Blaine, Blaine likes me, I turn down Blaine, you make me feel your wrath for hurting him... it would make for a nice little drama story, wouldn't it?"

Kurt huffed.

"I wasn't going to... 'make you feel my wrath'."

To his surprise, Kyle started laughing.

"Interesting," he said, "so what _are_ you here for?"

"Talk," Kurt said. "Hear your side of the story. Making sure you realize I won't let you play with Blaine's feelings."

He stepped a little closer to the fence the horse was tied to, recognizing the drop-shaped spot on her head. He held his hand out tentatively, and the animal raised her head, softly sniffing his hand before she nudged against it.

"Wow," Kyle said, casting him a sideways glance, "you really do like him, don't you?"

"I think I'm not the only one," Kurt replied, matter-of-factly.

Kyle didn't respond, a small hesitation in his strokes the only visible sign he had even heard Kurt.

"You kissed him."

This time, the brush Kyle was holding came to a sudden stop and the boy closed his eyes, inhaling deeply before he replied.

"Ah yes... I should've guessed he would tell you that." He paused before he continued. "Best ten seconds of my life. Worst decision ever, too, come to think of it."

"That doesn't even make sense," Kurt said, confused.

"There's a lot that doesn't make sense to me when it comes to Blaine," Kyle said softly, more to himself than to Kurt. "Then again, I guess that's to be expected when you... like someone."

He let out a surprised huff.

"I've never actually said that out loud, you know. That I like him. I've barely even let myself think it." Kyle slowly resumed the brushing, still avoiding Kurt's eyes. "'I like Blaine'. It sounds weird."

This was not the way Kurt had expected this conversation to go, that was for sure.

"Why... are you even telling me this? Shouldn't you rather be telling Blaine?"

Kyle shrugged.

"I'm sick of trying to ignore that huge elephant that's threatening to trample me. And I'm telling you because I think you might understand. Blaine is too involved - he would only try to make me change my mind. He'd probably succeed, too. But you - you know how it feels. Not getting what you want. Although you might actually be closer to it than I am."

Kurt leaned back against the fence, making a face.

"Blaine doesn't even like me like that."

"Maybe he just doesn't know it yet."

"You mean he doesn't know how _you_ feel about _him_. And _I_ don't know why you would turn down a boy you like and who you know for a fact likes you back."

Kurt's voice was filled with anger and frustration. How Kyle could first so calmly admit he liked someone and then just as calmly say "no" when said someone asked him out was beyond him - especially when the someone in question was Blaine.

"Have you ever heard of SOFIA?"

Kurt frowned at the out-of-the-blue question. "What do they have to do with this?"

"Have you?"

"Well, yes, of course," Kurt said, the disdain on his face more than obvious. "Stabilization Of Families In America. Pro-life, anti-preconception, anti-gay, ... safe haven for conservatives all over the country. Their vice-president is the worst, though - we had her as an invited speaker at school last year after Quinn Fabray got knocked up. She was a teenage mom herself, but now she's preaching abstinence and what-not... hypocrite."

"Most people react like that," Kyle said, a sad smile on his face, "but I promise she's not so bad once you get to know her. It wasn't easy for her - single teenage mom, and all that. She tried her best. Still does."

It took Kurt a couple of seconds to grasp the implications of what Kyle had just said, and as the comprehension dawned, his jaw fell.

"She's... she's your _mother_?"

"Heart of gold," Kyle winked at him, "not nearly as though as she sounds in her speeches."

He gave Meryem a few long strokes before he turned to Kurt, his face suddenly grave.

"You know what would happen if I said "yes" to Blaine? I'd fall in love with him. I'd fall in love with him and I'd start believing that love would conquer all. That I could tell my mum and she'd accept it and we'd all live happily ever after. Only we wouldn't. I know her. She'd take me out of Dalton, send me to therapists and conversion camps and make me go through every single possible 'cure' she could lay her hands on."

"But... but you're her son! And you deserve to be happy!"

"Yeah, well, so does my mum," Kyle said dryly. "Do you have any idea how guilty she feels? How hard she worked to give me everything I needed? How proud she was to be able to send me here, to Dalton? She was fourteen when she had me, Kurt, fourteen, and her parents simply threw her out. She did it all by herself - raised me, got a degree, built out a career. And all it would take would be for me to come out and it would all have been for nothing. She'd feel like it's her fault, like she didn't do enough for me, and there won't be anything I'll be able to tell her to convince her otherwise. It would kill her. And I will not let that happen."

"So you're just gonna build your life on a lie? For your mom's sake?" Kurt could barely believe what Kyle was telling him.

"And mine. And girls are not all that bad. If you close your eyes you could almost imagine you're kissi- _oh__shit_."

Kyle's face dropped as caught eye of someone behind Kurt, and the younger boy barely had the time to turn around to see who it was when he felt a flash of pain through his upper arm.

"Aauww! Blaine! You're hurting me!"

But Blaine didn't seem to hear him, a mix of anger and relief in his eyes when he pushed Kurt back.

"You get away from her! Now! Go, get to your car, I'll see you there."

"I was just talking to him!" Kurt yelled, clasping his arm. "I was just trying to _help_!"

Blaine rolled his eyes at him - _Blaine__rolled__his__eyes__at__him_.

"You are completely missing the point," Blaine all but shouted, "so just get out of here! Now. GO!"

Kurt stumbled back. The sight of Blaine, angrier than he'd ever seen him, terrified him to no end. He didn't understand - he hadn't done anything wrong, had he? He'd just wanted to _talk_.

He watched as Blaine pulled Kyle aside, away from the fence and away from Kurt. It was obvious Blaine wanted to talk to Kyle without Kurt overhearing, but through all his anger he was talking so loud Kurt could easily follow at least some of the conversation.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Blaine hissed.

"Talking to Kurt, what's it look like?" Kyle replied, ripping himself free from Blaine's grip.

"Here?"

"Well he came to me, what was I supposed to do? Drop everything and take him to the Lima Bean?"

"For example, yes! You knów I don't-"

Blaine paused, glancing over at Kurt. He dropped his voice.

"I don't want her near him. You knów that."

Kyle rolled his eyes, not in the least impressed.

"Not that again, Blaine, please. You act like she's a walking liability or something."

"She can't be trusted!" Blaine called out, voice rising again. "You know that as well as I do."

"Actually I don't," Kyle sounded almost bored. "It was one time, Blaine. _One__time_! Get over it already!"

"Get over it!" Blaine shouted indignantly. "I lost a brother because of her, thank you very much, and I'm not about to lose another!"

"Well, you seem to trust her enough to be around me."

"That's different," Blaine said stubbornly, avoiding Kyle's gaze.

"Why?" Kyle asked defiantly. "Because I'm such a great horse whisperer? Or because-" he dropped his voice, glancing over his shoulder at Kurt, "or because you'd care more if something happened to him than to me?"

Blaine's jaw dropped.

"What?"

"You heard me."

Kyle stepped aside, trying to make his way past Blaine, but the younger boy grabbed him by the arm once more, spinning him around.

"Are you trying to insinuate there's something going on between Kurt and me? Because I think I made quite clear where my heart is, and has been for over a year - not that you could be bothered, of course."

Kyle cringed inwardly at the hurt in Blaine's voice. For a second he wondered how it could be -would be- if he gave in. If he would apologize to Blaine for what he'd said the day before, defy his mother and do the selfish thing.

But he knew he couldn't - and it wasn't just because of his mother.

He braced himself, bringing his face close to Blaine's.

"I'm not insinuating anything," he said, ignoring Blaine's last remark, "I'm stating a fact. Look, you can fool everyone, including yourself, saying that you care this much about Kurt simply because he's your brother, but you can't fool me. You've known him for what, three months? I see the way you act around him, Blaine. Maybe if you would take your mind off of your stupid obsession with our little experiment last summer, you'd see it too."

He yanked himself free from Blaine once more and walked away, praying to God and anyone who'd listen that Blaine wouldn't come after him and see the tears that were welling up from his eyes.

He'd done the right thing, he told himself. If he couldn't make Blaine happy, maybe he could have Kurt do it for him - he might have exaggerated a little bit in what he told Blaine, but there was no denying the chemistry that Kurt and Blaine shared. So maybe, with a little push on both sides...

Yes, he'd done the right thing. But it didn't _feel_ right - not at all.

.

Blaine watched Kyle walk away, the thoughts in his head tumbling and turning. To say the conversation hadn't gone the way he'd expected it to was an understatement. That it had taken Mercedes to slip up for him to realize how Kurt felt about him, hadn't been a surprise. But for Kyle to suggest Blaine was misinterpreting his _own_ feelings... that was pushing the envelope.

He turned around to find Kurt still standing there, looking lost and confused, and suddenly he felt the annoyance grow within him.

"I thought I told you to wait in the car," he said, walking up to Kurt and turning him around by the small of his back.

"Yeah, well, I'm not your dog," Kurt snapped back, backing away from the touch, "you can't just tell me what to do."

Blaine didn't reply, continuing his way back to the main building with big, angry steps. It wasn't long before he noticed Kurt wasn't following anymore though.

"What the hell is going on, Blaine?" the younger boy called at him as he turned around. "What did I do wrong?"

Blaine sighed.

"Nothing. You didn't do anything wrong. Now let's go."

"Oh no."

Blaine heard quick footsteps and then Kurt was right in front of him, eyes blazing.

"No no. It doesn't work like that, Blaine. You owe me an explanation. And an apology."

"_Me_?" Blaine asked, eyebrows rising. "_You_ are the one who went to talk to Kyle behind my back."

"And _you_ are the one who barged in into a private conversation only to make a big scene and then walk away as if nothing happened. I was trying to help you, what's your excuse?"

Blaine rubbed his temples.

"Look, Kurt, I'll show you to Kyle's dorm, you can wait for him there and continue your little lady chat about me. Now - let's go."

But Kurt didn't move, eyes transfixed on Blaine's.

"An apology, Blaine. And an explanation."

* * *

><p><strong>So... I'm just gonna leave this here...<strong>

**And I told ya Kyle was a good guy...**


	15. Blaine's story

"_It's a really long story."_

"_I'm looking forward to hearing it."_

"_You're going to be bored out of your mind."_

"_I doubt it."_

"_You'll think I'm pathetic."_

"_Unlikely."_

"_You're gonna s-"_

"_I'm not gonna do any of the sorts. Now shut up, will you? I'll see you at your place, and you will tell me."_

-o0o-

"I always had this fascination with horses, I don't know why," Blaine started. He was sitting on his bed, leaning against the headboard, looking over Kurt who was sitting cross-legged across from him. "On my sixth birthday my parents gave me an outing to a riding school - I had this private instructor who was absolutely horrible and the pony they gave me was so old it barely even moved, but it was the best day of my life. After that, they signed me up for lessons in another school, and I would go as often as I could. I was... I know this is going to sound cocky, but I was good. I was good at riding, I was good at handling the animals, and I loved all of it. I started competing when I was 7, one of the youngest kids on the course but I kinda did well for myself. That's when my grandfather bought me Tornado. I remember going with him to see all these people, all these horses, but it was never right. But when I saw Tornado, I knew. I knew it was him. No need to mention he was the most expensive horse we'd seen. But I didn't know that until years later, obviously."

Blaine chuckled at the memory before he continued.

"Training with Tornado was so much easier than it had been with the horses from the riding school. As I said, it just... clicked... between us. It wasn't until we switched from hunting to jumping that it really took off, though. Riding became my life and I spent as much time on Tornado's back as I possibly could, going to competitions almost every weekend."

"_Every__weekend_?" Kurt asked, incredulously. "Are there even that many competitions? And didn't you have school or something?"

Blaine shrugged.

"I was smart enough that it didn't really affect my grades. It was only elementary school, too, and a public elementary school at that. And I got really good at making homework in the car - my grandfather got very passionate about the whole thing and he drove me everywhere, I swear there's not a town in Ohio I haven't been."

"So that's how you got all those ribbons," Kurt gestured behind him, at Blaine's trophy shelf. To his surprise however, Blaine burst out laughing.

"Let me show you," Blaine said, stepping off the bed and walking towards another cupboard. He only barely touched the box, even when he stood on his toes, but somehow he managed to pull it off the shelf and return it to the bed. It was a rather large box, and when Blaine took off the lid, Kurt's eyes almost popped out of their sockets. It was filled to the brim with ribbons, and medals, trophies, pictures and other memorabilia that Blaine had collected over the years.

"You... you won all of these?" Kurt asked. "Like... _all_ of them?"

The look on Kurt's face made Blaine burst out laughing once more, although it was obvious he was actually very proud to be able to show Kurt this.

"All of them," he nodded.

"Wow... ," Kurt was speechless, rummaging through the box and picking out random stuff. "I never realized you were so... "

"Obsessed?" Blaine offered, smiling.

"... dedicated," Kurt finished, looking up at Blaine. "You really are good at this."

Without warning, Blaine's face fell.

"I wás."

Something in the tone of his voice alarmed Kurt, and he looked up from the box to find Blaine had moved back to his previous spot on the bed - elbows on his knees, head on his hands.

"Oh Blaine, I'm sorry... ."

"It's ok... ," Blaine shook his head. "It's part of the story, after all."

He traced his fingers through his hair, taking a deep breath.

"When I started middle school, things became a bit... harder on me. I had to put in more effort for school, the level of the competitions I was doing increased, and hormones started to kick in. The first year things were not so bad, but by the end of sixth grade rumors were starting to go around that I was gay. I don't think I was even sure myself at that moment, so I tried to just... avoid the subject, use the many hours of riding and training as an explanation for my complete lack of interest in girls. To my credit, I díd train very hard, and I got my first state title that year." Blaine smiled faintly. "My grandfather... he was so proud. Even more so than I. He knew about the rumors, I think, because he tried to get me to talk about girls a little as well, but I got away with telling him I felt I was too young for all that, and anyways he preferred me to focus on my 'career'."

The last words sounded a little bitter, but Kurt let Blaine talk. It was his story, after all.

"Then, in seventh grade, a new kid transferred to my school. Patrick. We became best friends faster than Harry and Ron did, I swear, although I still have no idea what brought us together. Back then, I was really shy, and reserved, and he was this typical boy, you know: handsome, confident, popular with the girls without even having to try."

Kurt couldn't help himself.

"I know a guy like that," he giggled. He clearly remembered the time when New Directions had decided to take over his coffee date with Blaine and Mercedes, and how all the girls had flocked around Blaine like flies around a jar of honey. He never did miss an opportunity to tease Blaine about it, and to Kurt's satisfaction, a small smile appeared around the lips of his foster brother.

"Yes, well, as I said... I wasn't exactly confident at thát time," Blaine winked, "but I guess Patrick had more than enough confidence for the both of us. He wasn't just in my class, too, he rode at the same school as well. It was just what I needed at the time - a friend who shared my interests, who I could relate to. As an added bonus, because he was almost constantly surrounded by girls, I got a lot better at dealing with them, too. I don't think the rumors ever really died, but nobody bugged me about it anymore, at least, and that was all I was asking for. And then, when I thought things couldn't possibly get better, they did."

He lifted his hand to point at something behind Kurt, and Kurt turned around, not sure what exactly it was that was supposed to grab his attention, since the cupboard Blaine was pointing at was overflowing with stuff.

"Nicky."

"The kid in the picture?" Kurt asked, turning back to face Blaine.

Blaine nodded, the same look on his face as he had worn a couple of weeks ago - that strange mixture of good memories and guilt.

"He's my foster brother."

"You never told me that!"

"I guess it never really came up," Blaine shrugged. "He came with us right before the Christmas holidays that year and God, Kurt, you should haven seen him... he was six, but he looked no older than four: tiny, skinny, dirty - but with the biggest smile you could imagine.

The thing with Nicky was, he loved horses. I mean, I took all our fosters to the stables at one point or another, I swear there's not a single kid that has stayed in this house that has not spent at least one afternoon on a horse's back, and they all liked it. But Nicky... Nicky didn't just like it, he adored it, as much as I did, and he was almost better with the animals than I was, too. And that's saying something. What?"

Blaine looked almost indignant at the sound Kurt had made, but there was a mischievous light in his eyes.

"It's true!"

"I'm sure it is," Kurt smiled, patting Blaine on the knee in a fake patronizing way, "I'm sure it is."

"Anyway!" Blaine huffed, pretending to be hurt. "I'd found my balance between school and riding, Patrick and I got along more than great and I had the cutest little brother who would follow me around wherever I went and basically treat me as if I were the most important thing in the world. Everything was perfect. So of course I had to screw it up."

When Blaine didn't immediately continue, Kurt raised his eyebrows questioningly, but it still took Blaine a couple of deep breaths before he continued.

"One night after competition my grandfather caught Patrick kissing me."

Kurt gasped. "He _what_?"

"It was only a small peck, I swear!" Blaine looked like a beaten puppy. "Like our lips barely even touched. But a kiss is a kiss, I guess... and that little peck was the beginning of the end of my public school life."

"You transferred to Dalton."

"Not immediately," Blaine said, "Patrick did, though, and I haven't seen or heard him since. I guess he made the wisest choice... . But I... you see, my friends at the riding school didn't seem to make a big deal out of it. I got teased, obviously, but it never got mean. In retrospect they probably just held back because they didn't want to lose one of their most promising riders, but at the time it felt like they just didn't really care, you know? And anyways, it had happened after competition, on location, and the people from riding school only found out because my grandfather was making such a huge fuss over it when he caught us. The point is... I didn't even think the people at school would find out."

Another deep breath.

"But they did."

"So... that's when you started getting bullied, too?" Kurt asked tentatively.

Blaine nodded.

"I made it through eighth year, somehow. I have Nicky to thank for that, really. He always found a way to make me smile, to make me feel better. My dad had explained to him what being gay meant, and why it was bad, but he either didn't understand or didn't care, because he never once judged me for it. I remember we were watching this Disney movie, Aladdin, and he was sitting there with his little head in his hands and sigh - 'oh, princess Jasmine is so _pretty_'. And then he looked at me and asked: 'Do you think Aladdin is pretty, too?'. That was Nicky right there. I don't think he really understood what it was that I was going through at school - he saw the bruises and my torn school books, of course but... he was young enough to believe that a kiss on the sore spot would somehow heal it, make all the bad things go away. And because he believed it, I believed it too.

I distracted myself by training even harder - I had won my second title the year before and for some reason I thought that maybe, if I had three consecutive titles, people would start... respecting me... or something... . But it was hard, harder than before. Tornado was getting older, for one. My grandfather refused to see me anymore and I couldn't always get to the competitions I needed to be. My mom gave up a lot for me, that year, but it wasn't the same - for all he hated me later, my grandfather had really supported me and coached me ever since I got my first ribbon, and my mom... it just wasn't the same.

And again Nicky was just... there. Sitting on the fence during every single practice, tagging along to every single competition, taking care of Tornado when I had too much work for school to do it all. And, I made it. Third title. That's when that picture was taken. It didn't change anything, though."

Blaine smiled faintly as he felt Kurt's hand close in around his, giving a little squeeze. He didn't have to explain anything to Kurt.

"I thought I would be able to start over in high school - it was a new school, in a different district, but word travelled fast. Things escalated. Dalton to the rescue."

The last sentence was said almost sarcastically, but the shame that was bubbling underneath Blaine's words was almost tangible to Kurt.

"You're not a coward, Blaine," he said softly, "you didn't run away. You took matters in your own hands and made sure you would be safe."

"Words," Blaine shrugged it off. "They're words, that's all they are. It doesn't change the way it _feels_."

In an instant, Kurt was right in front of him, lifting his chin with a single finger, making sure Blaine was looking at him when he spoke.

"There is no shame in asking for help, Blaine. You told me that. There is no shame in turning your back on people who don't care about you."

Blaine looked up, surprised.

"Well look at you," he said, smiling despite himself, "going all big brother on me. Where did you learn that?"

"I had a very good teacher," Kurt winked, "Blaine Anderson, you might have heard of him. One of the strongest people I know, although he doesn't always practice what he preaches."

The words hit home, Kurt saw and then Blaine took Kurt's hands in his, pressing a light kiss on them.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now continue the story because even though the history of your horse riding career is fascinating and I am aware of the traumatizing effects of bullying, I still fail to see why you freaked out on me earlier."

"Yeah, well... I was kinda hoping I would have bored you to death by now," Blaine replied.

He said it jokingly, but it was crystal clear to Kurt this was the part of the story Blaine was fearing to tell the most.

"Blaine..."

"All right! All right... ," Blaine raised his hands in defeat, "I'll tell, don't worry, I'll tell. See? I'm telling."

Kurt gave him a playful push, trying to relieve some of the tension that had suddenly filled the room, but it still took Blaine the better part of the next minute to start talking.

"I don't have to explain to you what a relief it was to be at Dalton. To not be afraid anymore. To have room for breathing. There was Kyle, and I didn't even care whether he was gay or not, just the fact that I could look at him, could develop this massive crush without anyone giving me shit for it, it was... amazing. They had the Warblers, too, and I auditioned as soon as I could. There was no show choir at my old school - I didn't even know I could sing, to be honest, I had always been so focussed on riding. I just thought it was so cool what they did, and I wanted to be part of that. And then I found out that Dalton had an equestrian team and... oh God, I thought I would die from happiness. And then when I saw Meryem..."

He looked up at Kurt.

"Meryem is the horse Kyle was grooming when... well, earlier. I don't know if you saw but she has this spot on her forehead, almost identical to the one Tornado has."

Kurt nodded. He knew this, already, but he wasn't about to tell Blaine that he'd been at the stables with Kyle before, or that he knew who Meryem was - one freak-out a day was more than enough, thank you very much.

"And it was like this... sign... . Because it was becoming pretty clear Tornado couldn't take show jumping for much longer anymore, and since I was switching age categories it was the perfect time to start training with someone new. Meryem had a stronger temperament than Tornado, and it took some time to find our balance but once we did it was just... perfect. The only downside of Dalton was the distance, and the workload, because it meant I got to spent much less time with Nicky. I took him to Dalton when we had weekend practice sometimes, though, and he would usually watch a movie in my room whenever I was studying.

I didn't expect to win that year, and to be fair I have to admit my competitors didn't perform nearly as well as they usually did but... I won. I still don't know what was the best part - actually winning, or returning to school the next day. At my old school the year before they had welcomed me with a swirley. At Dalton the headmaster gave a speech in front of the whole school to congratulate me and the Warblers carried me around on their shoulders like I was some kind of hero. It was unreal. I had never really understood the concept of 'crying out of happiness' before, but that day... I cried my eyes out."

Blaine sighed, the conflicted look on his face a stark contrast with the happiness he had just been telling about.

"And once more it was proven that perfect can never last."

Kurt didn't say anything, grabbing Blaine's hand instead, feeling instinctively that whatever it was that had screwed up Blaine's 'perfect' this time, it was worse than your grandfather walking in on your first kiss.

"A couple of weeks into the summer, I was at Dalton, practicing with Meryem. Nicky had come along with me - he was sitting on the fence reading a book as he usually did and I'll never forget that image, he looked so peaceful and content, the sun shining in his hair. But that day... ," Blaine pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, "I still don't know what got into her. I know they had her examined to see if she had been in any pain, and they combed out the course for nails or something she could've stepped in, but they couldn't find anything. But for whatever reason it was, she... she reared and I got thrown off. I _never_ got thrown off before, Kurt, _never_."

Blaine bit his lip, an exasperated look in his eyes, as if, to this day, he couldn't believe it had actually happened. And although Kurt knew that, obviously, Blaine was alright now, he was almost afraid to ask.

"Were you... did you get hurt?"

"A broken ankle," Blaine shrugged. "Some crushed ribs. A lot of bruises everywhere. All things considered I was really lucky."

"But that's... good, right?" Kurt said nervously, not sure why Blaine looked so... devastated. "If the worst was a broken ankle then that's good, right?"

He gave a little squeeze in Blaine's knee, but the other boy didn't even look at him.

"Nicky."

It was the way Blaine said it, the finality in his voice, the drooping of his shoulders, that made Kurt feel ice cold.

"He must have run on the course when he saw me fall - I don't know, I was still dizzy and trying to pull myself together, I didn't see him. I think he wanted to calm Meryem down, or maybe he was running to me and he just didn't look - as I said, I wasn't fully aware of my surroundings, I didn't actually see it happen. But he... she hit him. Meryem hit him. And he was so tiny, he was only eight, Kurt. He was so tiny, even for his age and..."

Blaine tried to fight back the tears that welled up in his eyes, but it was no use - they were streaming down his face, and the sobbing all but broke Kurt's heart.

"Was he... was he alright?" he asked. He knew it was probably a useless question, but he had to know. He didn't expect Blaine to say what he did, though.

"I don't know."

"Wh... what?"

"I don't know," Blaine repeated, looking up at Kurt now. "I don't know."

"How can you not know? I mean, you were there, weren't you?"

Kurt didn't understand - Nicky was staying at the Anderson's at the time. And seeing how fondly Blaine had spoken about the little boy, Kurt couldn't imagine he hadn't visited him in the hospital.

"Do you remember when you helped my mom with her Christmas cards? When I dropped that ornament?"

And Kurt couldn't believe the puzzle in his head only fell together now. Nicholas Ramsay. Nicky. The boy they had lost contact with.

"Kyle was the one who called 911," Blaine started explaining, "he was cleaning the stables when he heard me scream. They took Nicky and me to the hospital separately - I vaguely remember seeing the paramedics slide his stretcher in the ambulance. That was the last time I saw him.

They put him in ICU, but because my parents and I weren't strictly family, we weren't allowed to see him, and the doctors refused to tell us anything. I'm guessing he was pretty badly injured because he was officially taken out of our care and the CWA started an investigation. I'm not too sure what their exact conclusion was, but apparently my parents should not have let me take him to Dalton unsupervised, and we were suspended from the foster program for a year.

We tried everything we could to get him back. There were appeals and hearings and everything, but... nothing. So we tried to just get to see him. Then to just know how he was doing. My mom even offered to pay the medical bills, thinking that, if we could get our hands on the original invoices, we might be able work out what had happened to him from the examinations that had been charged. But nothing worked - they wouldn't tell us anything.

We held on to the fact that they would have told us if he was... you know... "

Blaine struggled to say the word, but Kurt slowly shook his head, moving forward to wrap his arms around the boy in front of him. He could feel Blaine bury his face in his neck, holding onto him with everything he had, and it made him hold the other boy even tighter.

"It wasn't your fault," he whispered.

"I lost control," Blaine retorted, "I knew Meryem had a temperament and I let myself forget about it. I lost control."

"It wasn't your fault," Kurt repeated, "she's an animal, they are unpredictable sometimes. There's nothing you did wrong."

"I should have instructed Nicky better. I always praised him for how good he was at handling the horses. He ran onto the course with Meryem still freaking out because I made him overconfident."

Kurt pulled away, taking Blaine's face in his hands to force him once more to look at him.

"You fell off a horse. He was worried about you. People do stupid things when they are worried about someone, especially when they're eight. It was not. your. fault."

"That's what everybody said," Blaine said dully. "My mother. My therapist. Kyle. But I had to blame someone. I couldn't accept that it had just... happened... . And so I... I started to blame Meryem. She was the one who threw me off, after all, for no reason. And I just got so mad at her. So mad."

He shook his head, as if he was trying to get rid of the feelings that were plaguing him.

"So you quit... "

"I couldn't anymore, Kurt!" Blaine looked up at Kurt pleadingly, his eyes still red and puffy from crying. "I couldn't! I just... every time I as much as thoúght of her I would just... get so angry. I couldn't even be around Tornado for the longest time, because... that spot, you know, it made me think of her and... I got so worked up, in the end even just the _smell_ of the stables was enough to make me freak out, because I would just remember the accident and Nicky and how I didn't know how he was doing and how I wasn't there for him and I- he had always been there for me, Kurt! Always! And right when he needed me, I wasn't there for him!"

Tears appeared in his eyes again, and it was all he could do not to start crying again.

"So when Nate told me... he told me he'd seen you go to the stables and I just... panicked. You've probably never even seen a horse up close before, you don't know how to deal with them, how you're not supposed to walk right behind them, ... you wouldn't know what to do if something happened. And then when I saw you, you were standing like... right next to her. And Kyle... he knóws. If anyone knows, it's him, and I couldn't believe he let you get so close to her, couldn't believe he didn't realize the danger he was putting you in and... I freaked. I just... I would have never forgiven myself if anything had happened to you."

"Hey... hey, Blaine, look at me!" Kurt searched for Blaine's eyes, squeezing his hands. "I'm alright. You see? I'm alright. Nothing happened. It's ok. And I promise I won't go anywhere near a horse ever again without your explicit written permission, ok?"

He winked at Blaine, but the other boy paled in shock.

"Oh God," he said, suddenly appalled, burying his face in his hands. "you must think I'm such a weirdo. I totally overreacted, didn't I? I did. I totally did. Oh God."

Kurt laughed softly.

"A little, maybe".

Blaine cringed, groaning with embarrassment.

"I told you you'd think I'm pathetic."

"Blaine!" Kurt sounded suddenly firm. "Blaine, you're not pathetic. You're not a weirdo. You're a kind, caring person who got a little carried away."

"A little?"

Blaine raised his eyebrows, sending a questioning look at Kurt who immediately started giggling.

"Okay, a lot. But hey! Look at you joking about it, right?"

"Right," Blaine smiled, "but the fact remains that I'm still freaking out about stuff that happened almost two years ago."

"You lost a brother, Blaine! Of course that's going to affect you, no matter how long ago it happened! These things take time... and I know you've started riding again, at least, so you can't deny you're making progress. Just... give yourself time. You might want to take a course in anger management though, because that whole protective-older-brother-thing you got going on? It's freaking scary."

Blaine gave him a playful push, and Kurt tumbled over, laughing, glad that they could banter about it, at least. He quickly recomposed himself though, placing his hands in his lap.

"So, what's the plan?"

"What plan?" Blaine asked, confused.

"Why, the plan to find Nicky, of course."

* * *

><p><strong>So, I basically rewrote all of this this afternoon, which means I haven't had time to properly beta it, but after yesterday's cliffhanger I couldn't NOT post today ;). I hope this satisfies the curiosity I understand has been killing some you for some time now - I hope I didn't disappoint. And although yes, I realize I'm starting to abuse the power of writing and leaving you with another cliffhanger, it's only a teeny weeny one, and I hope you'll forgive me for it.<strong>

**As I said, no new chapter this Tuesday -I suspect I'll be too busy dying from all the Klaine goodness (not to mention Sebastian cockiness) it will bring us- but I hope to be resuscitated by the 15th to start The Quest For Nicky. Any ideas how our boy should go about it?**

**But now if you'll excuse me... I have a rock to go hide under.**


	16. Starting the quest

BAANG

With a deafening thud, Kurt felt himself being thrown against his locker - he could feel how the air was smashed out of his lungs, how the lock was pressing painfully against his back, how his limbs were going numb. He didn't try to fight it but instead let himself slide down slowly, wishing that whoever it was that had pushed him would just walk on and leave him to it, when he heard voices overhead.

"Hey! Dude, that's not cool!"

Finn. Finn? It sounded like Finn. It was hard to be sure, though, his head was pounding and he was scared of opening his eyes, scared of what he might see.

"Seems like you've been living with the fairy too long, Hudson - what, is he your _boyfriend_ now?"

"He's my FRIEND, and I won't let you push him around like this, Karofsky."

Kurt winced as he heard the burly jock roar with laughter.

"Wooo... I'm scared now. Who you're gonna bring for that, ha? Or are you going to _report_ me?"

"It would be our word against yours, Karofsky," Finn sounded surprisingly calm, "and you have a history of being suspended for bullying - I'm sure coach Beiste wouldn't appreciate a member of her football team being involved in that kind of thing. _Again_."

Oh for the love of everything, Kurt thought vaguely, please let me have misunderstood that. Please let that not be Finn threatening Karofsky.

"You wouldn't."

It was said defiantly, but Kurt could hear it - that little streak of doubt underneath. He guessed Finn might have heard it too, because there was no doubt whatsoever in his reply.

"Watch me."

Silence and then footsteps, quickly stomping away, and a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey... Kurt... Kurt, are you okay?"

Kurt smiled - he forced himself to smile, finally opening his eyes, and allowed Finn to help him sit in a somewhat more comfortable position.

"I'm... I'll be fine, Finn. Thanks, though."

He saw Finn look at him worriedly, and despite everything it warmed his heart. It was still Finn, after all, and although he was long over his crush, Kurt would always have a soft spot for the clumsy, good-hearted quarterback.

"Hey... our parents may have broken up but you're still a brother to me," Finn said, "I told you that. I promised Burt I wouldn't let anything happening to you, and I intend to keep that promise. I got your back, ok? Me, and everyone else in Glee club. You know that, right?"

"I know," Kurt replied, heaving a sigh, "I know. It was the first time this week, though, I swear."

Actually, it was the second time, but Kurt was not about to spill that to anyone. Things hád changed for the better, after all, at McKinley High. The Glee jocks were rarely seen together anymore, opting to each stay close to one of the more vulnerable members instead, hoping it would have a deterring effect on the bullies. It seemed to work, and although Kurt was still being shoved against the lockers or thrown in a dumpster from time to time, it was now a weekly occurrence rather than a daily one. There had been help from an unsuspected side as well - although coach Sylvester would never admit she was doing it to help Kurt, her ban on slushies (she claimed the high sugar content had caused her Cheerios to be hyperactive and unconcentrated, causing them to lose Regionals) had effectively reduced the amount of laundry Kurt was doing on a weekly basis fivefold. As a result, complaining about something futile as being shoved twice in a single week seemed nothing less than ungrateful to Kurt.

"Good... that's good... I mean, it's not good it happened but... "

Finn seemed to realize he was about to lose himself in rambles again, because he quickly stood up, reaching out a hand to Kurt.

"Come on, let's go, I'll walk you to your next class, ok?"

Kurt nodded and took the hand gratefully, letting himself be pulled up. He took a moment to readjust his clothes and check for any damage -one button had been torn from his jacket, but that seemed to be the worst of it, fortunately- before he reached out for his bag, slinging it over his shoulder as he started walking along his former step-brother.

"Finn, is Carole home today or will you be alone?" he asked, glancing sideways. "Because I'd like to come over some time, if that's okay."

"Eh... dude... ," Finn seemed suddenly nervous, eyes darting between Kurt and the floor as they kept walking, and Kurt could see how the boy had to fight not to increase the distance between them. He frowned.

"What?"

"Well... it's just... I mean, I'm glad to help out, I mean, if Karofsky is bothering you, and all, but I... well... it doesn't mean that... you know... I'm not... and I promise, I'm like, cool with it, really, it's nothing like that! You have to believe me - because, I mean, it's cool, you being... you know... and all that, but I... I don't-"

"Finn!" Kurt rolled his eyes as he watched the jock stutter away. It was endearing, really, but he didn't have time for this. "I'm not asking because I want you home alone - I'm not trying to seduce you. I'm asking because I need to talk to your mom, that is, if she's not working tonight?"

The relief on Finn's face couldn't have been more apparent, and his standard lopsided smile took over.

"Oh. Yeah, sure. I mean, no, she's not working. So, yeah, you can... come over... if you like. Anytime. Like... you know..."

"Thanks Finn," Kurt smiled, coming to a halt in front of his History class room, "I'll see you tonight, then."

"Yeah. See you."

-o0o-

That night, Kurt rang the bell of the Hudson home.

"Kurt! Come in! Finn told me you were going to stop by tonight! How are you? How's your dad? Is he recovering well?"

Kurt smiled as he entered the house and took off his coat, all the while patiently letting Carole bombard him with questions. As he followed her to the living room, he tried to answer as many as he could - yes, he was fine, really and so was his dad, thanks for asking and yes, he was almost fully recovered now, so if she wanted to visit him some time, he was sure his dad would appreciate?

"That is very sweet of you to say, Kurt," Carole said, a blush appearing on her cheek, "thanks, maybe I will."

Kurt smiled back at her, glad to find they fell back into the conversation easily. He had gotten along great with Mrs. Anderson, their common interest in fashion and cooking providing a never-ending source of conversation topics, but she had been more like an older friend, a mentor, almost. With Carole things were different, and Kurt could honestly say she was the closest he'd ever let anyone come to be a mother figure to him. It was something Carole was very much aware of and didn't take lightly, and Kurt appreciated her all the more for it.

"So Finn said you wanted to ask me something?"

Carole sat down into one of the couches, gesturing at Kurt to take a seat himself, too. He gladly accepted the invite, taking a breath before he started.

"I have a favor to ask you. You work at the Lima Memorial Hospital, right?"

He briefly told her about Nicky, and Blaine, leaving out the unnecessary, personal details, but iterating how close the two brothers had been, and how they had lost contact.

"We know he was taken to the Memorial Hospital. Now, I'm not asking you to tell me what injuries he had or to break any confidentiality policy or anything like that, or even to give me his social security number. Although it would be convenient."

He raised his hand when he saw Carole wanting to protest.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding... . But if you... if you could just take a look at his discharge papers, and tell us what address it says? If we want to know where he is now, we need to know where he went when he left the hospital, so we can reconstruct everything. It would be such a great help."

"You know I can't do that, Kurt," Carole said, softly. "You know I can't just look through a patient's file and take out information. I'm a nurse, people trust me."

"Just the address, Carole - you wouldn't even really tell us where he is, he probably went to a temporary facility or a foster home or something like that and he won't even be there anymore now. We'll figure it out from there but we... we just need to be able to start somewhere. Blaine hasn't seen Nicky in almost two years, he doesn't even know for sure if he's still alive. So please?"

Kurt looked at her pleadingly, and when he saw her glance down, he knew he'd won.

"I'll see what I can do," Carole said, lifting a finger at Kurt when she saw him bouncing up and down, his hands clasped together. "I'm not promising anything though!"

But Kurt didn't mind.

"That's ok, alright! Great! You'll try! That's all I'm asking!"

He beamed at Carole, who couldn't help but smile back - he was as close a son to her as she was a mother to him, after all.

-o0o-

"Have you tried the adoption agencies?" Kurt asked.

He had figured that, while they were waiting for Carole's sneak investigation, they could at least try to get a head start on how to proceed if that particular lead didn't work out. And thus he was now lying flat on his stomach on Blaine's bed, trying to make a list of what they had already tried and where they could possibly find more information on Nicky. Blaine was sitting behind him with his laptop, calling upon the Internet Gods for any piece of information that could help them out.

"Isn't that a bit of a stretch?" Blaine replied. "And which agency should I check? There seem to be a gazillion of them, and I don't know if they even work together with the CWA."

"We'll have to figure that out, then," Kurt said, making a note. "Have you checked Facebook? MySpace?"

Blaine looked skeptical.

"He's only ten, I don't think he'd be on there, would he?"

"Well, it's worth a try, right?" Kurt glanced over his shoulder. "The simplest approach is always the best, or what was it?"

"If you're referring to Occam's razor, that would be 'the simplest explanation is most likely the correct one'. But I get your point."

Blaine drew up a new window, typing in the address and hitting enter. As he waited for the page to load, however, he sighed, looking up at Kurt. There was something else, something besides Nicky's current whereabouts, that had been plaguing him all evening.

"Kurt?" he asked tentatively, waiting for the other boy to turn around before he continued. "Can I ask you why you are even doing this?"

"Doing what?" Kurt feigned innocence, returning to his papers.

"This," Blaine gestured at his bed which had papers and pictures all over it, "trying to find a boy you've never even met."

For a moment, he was scared he'd overstepped some invisible boundary he hadn't been aware of, because for a good minute Kurt remained focussed on the papers in front of him, the only movement coming from the pencil in his hand, ticking nervously against the note block.

"Because he's important to you," he finally said, turning on his side to look at Blaine. "Because I know how it feels like to lose someone. I'll never get my mom back, but you... you could find Nicky again. And it's fun to do, really."

"And... ?" Blaine asked, feeling instinctively there was more to it than Kurt let on.

"And... it gives me an excuse to hang out with you," Kurt finally admitted, a blush creeping on his cheeks as he quickly turned around again.

"Hey," Blaine frowned, pulling Kurt's leg to grab his attention, "you don't need an excuse to hang out with me, you know that, right?"

"I know," Kurt glanced at him. "I know. It's just..."

"What? It's just what?"

Blaine frowned - surely Kurt didn't think they couldn't hang out because they didn't go to the same school anymore, or no longer lived under the same roof? To be fair, ever since he found out about Kurt's feelings, Blaine hád tried to put a bit more space between the both of them: taking more care in what he talked about, cutting down on the touching, definitely cutting down on the teasing... . It had been difficult, a lot more difficult than Blaine had anticipated, actually, but he had persisted: he didn't want to make things harder on Kurt than strictly necessary. Was it possibly that he had overdone it, though? Had he pushed it too far?

"It's just you've been acting differently," Kurt said, pushing himself up. He was facing Blaine, but pointedly ignored the other boy's gaze. "Ever since I transferred back, ever since New Year's really, you've been more... distant. And I just... I just wondered if maybe I did something wrong, or said something that-"

"No, of course not! Kurt, why would you even think that?"

Blaine put his laptop aside, scooting towards Kurt.

"It was nothing you said, okay?"

It was meant to be reassuring, but clearly Kurt was on edge because he picked up on it - that slight, barely noticeable emphasis on the "you".

"Nothing _I_ said?" he asked, looking up, confused. "Then who-"

"No one, Kurt, no one," Blaine said quickly - too quickly. He cursed inwardly, angry because he had promised himself he wouldn't ever let Kurt find out about this. He looked at Kurt, pleading, asking him with his eyes to leave the matter alone. "It's not important."

But the damage had been done, and Blaine knew Kurt wouldn't let it go that easily.

"Was it one of the Warblers? Someone from Glee Club? Rachel, Finn, Merce-"

And although Blaine tried to fight it, he couldn't help but look away at the mention of the name.

Kurt's voice caught in his throat, racking his brain. Mercedes. When did she even see Blaine? What could she have told him that would've made him change his behavior so blatantly?

Oh.

Blaine could see the realization hit Kurt, and he moved towards the other boy.

"Kurt! It's... nothing, ok? I mean it's not nothing, of course, but..."

But it was no use. Kurt scrambled backwards, panting, looking up at Blaine in horror.

"Oh my. Oh God. Oh no. Oh God no, she told you."

"She didn't tell me anything, Kurt, I swear," Blaine scooted further towards Kurt, but the boy only moved further back, still looking horrified. "She didn't tell me anything, she just... dropped a hint and I figured it out from there."

But Kurt barely even seemed to hear him.

"Oh God, you must think I'm pathetic - falling in love with my brother. Again. You must think I was such a creep. Oh God."

Kurt was breathing so fast now that Blaine feared he might start to hyperventilate at any moment and he took advantage of Kurt's momentary shock to move forward and take Kurt's face in his hands.

"Kurt. Kurt, look at me. Look at me!"

He waited until he was sure he had the other boy's full attention before he spoke again.

"Kurt, listen to me. You're not pathetic. I don't think you're a creep."

"You don't?" Kurt sounded incredulous but seemed to calm down a bit nevertheless.

Blaine smiled reassuringly.

"I don't. If anything, I find it sweet, endearing, and a huge compliment. So will you calm down? Please?"

Kurt froze for a second before he nodded slowly, and Blaine carefully removed his hands from the other boy's face, falling back into his place. Suddenly, Kurt seemed to remember something.

"You were sitting next to her on New Year's, during my song. You walked out."

He looked up at Blaine, the fear returned in his eyes as if he was fully expecting Blaine to say he had walked out because he was revolted by the idea of Kurt being in love with him.

"I just needed some fresh air," Blaine tried to explain, "I'm such an ignorant fool sometimes and I just... it was just unexpected, okay? Just... unexpected. Nothing bad. Okay?"

Another small nod, and then Kurt actually started smiling.

"You know, I remember thinking, does he _really_ have to go to the bathroom now? He hasn't left the room for the whole evening, and now that I'm here on stage..."

"... showing off?" Blaine offered helpfully, grinning slightly.

"... singing." Kurt finished his sentence, shooting Blaine an indignant look. "I was singing."

But Blaine shook his head, his grin widening at the memory.

"You were showing off."

"Was not!"

The indignation on Kurt's face was quickly turning into a full-on death glare, but Blaine had seen it once too often to still be impressed.

"Was too," he said teasingly, "you were showing off. You were trying _to impress me_."

He poked playfully at Kurt's side, and the other boy jerked away.

"I was not... Blaine!"

But Blaine didn't listen, slowly intensifying his attack on Kurt's sides, tickling him wherever he had the chance.

"Blaine - Blaine stop! How old are you even - BLAINE!"

Kurt's arms flailed widely, desperate for something to grab, to fight back with, when his fingers finally closed around a nearby cushion. Without a moment's hesitation, he blindly whacked it at Blaine.

"Aauw!" Blaine grasped at his head, glaring. "That hurt!"

"Should've thought of that before you started tickl- aaargh!"

Before he even knew what was happening, Kurt found himself once again under attack, and despite his struggle he was soon overpowered, pinned down on the bed with Blaine hovering over him. His foster was apparently stronger than he looked, because he seemed to have no problem keeping the taller boy down.

"Admit it," Blaine panted over his head, "admit you were trying to impress me."

"No!" Kurt wriggled, trying to escape Blaine's strong grip, but it was no use.

"Admit it!"

"Never! I- oh _damn_," Kurt grumbled as he felt himself being pushed down, the papers below him crackling. "All right! All right. _Fine_. I may have - possibly - in a completely unconscious way, mind you - put some effort into broadcasting my talents as best as I could."

He looked at Blaine defiantly. "That's all you're gonna get."

"Good enough," Blaine grinned, as he rolled off of him and off the bed. Kurt felt a shiver running down his spine at the loss of contact and quickly scrambled up, trying to hide his sudden discomfort.

"Mercedes is gonna pay for this," he muttered, glancing at Blaine who was now tracing his hand through his hair, a victorious grin painted on his face. "And so are you."

"I'm looking forward, little brother," Blaine winked at him, not in the least bit impressed. "I'm looking forward."

* * *

><p><strong>Does this classify as fluff? Nah... not really, does it? At least I tried! And they were rolling around in bed together, that has to count for something, right? It's a bit of a filler, I'll admit, but there you go... I thought we could use some tension release, really... .(also, hat tip to <strong>amethyst-unicorn, who reminded me of the existence of social media)<strong>**

**Thank you so much to everyone who left a review during the small marathon of last week - I never had so many and it was really heartwarming, especially since I was feeling so insecure about everything! Also, somehow three of my home countries are now in the top 10 of my visitors so: hallo, how's the crack, jag hoppas att ni gillar den här kapitlet! Hugs to all Belgians, Irish and Swedes reading, now if I could just expand my Portuguese readership I would be the happiest girl alive ;). Thanks also to everyone who subscribed/favorited - you rock my world.**

**I am particularly excited about the next two chapters, and I have a feeling I will not be alone - maybe on Friday, if not I will see you next Tuesday, as usual!**


	17. Epiphany

They didn't see each other for another week, caught up in the extra practice sessions and last minute costume emergencies that Sectionals always seemed to bring along with it. Kurt made sure Mercedes realized exactly how much he didn't appreciate her not keeping mouth shut and, suddenly self-conscious despite Blaine's reassurances, he started to rigorously analyze each text and e-mail he sent Blaine. Blaine, for his part, felt powerless at the distance Kurt put between them, wondering if this was how he had made Kurt feel these past months, and why it was that whenever he thought of Kurt only one image would pop up - that of Kurt pinned down to the bed below him, panting, cheeks flushed and eyes wide. He didn't give himself time to dwell on it, though - there were songs to be rehearsed and dance routines to be memorized.

-o0o-

It was already getting pretty crowded in the lobby, but Blaine knew they had at least half an hour to spare before they would have to return to the green room to do some last minute rehearsing. So when he suddenly caught sight of Kurt pushing through the crowd, he quickly excused himself with his fellow Warblers to make his way over to Kurt, wanting to say hi and wish him good luck before they went on stage.

"Kurt!"

"Kurt!"

Blaine felt confused for a moment by the echo of his own voice, when he felt someone push past him and straight to the person he was headed to himself.

"Kurt, how are you? It's been ages!"

Kurt's laughter rang through the hall.

"You're a drama queen, Tiago, we had coffee like - last week."

Blaine watched as the two boys hugged, holding on to each other's arms as they pulled away, grinning broadly.

Well, that was... interesting.

He cleared his throat and stepped forward.

"Hi Kurt."

"Blaine, hey!"

Kurt raised his hand, but he didn't let go of Tiago to hug Blaine as Blaine had expected. Instead, he pointed at the tall guy standing awkwardly next to him.

"You both remember Finn, right?"

"Oh yeah, the other brother," Tiago nodded, a mischievous look in his eyes.

"Technically, he's my step brother," Finn grinned, throwing his arm over Kurt's shoulder and ruffling his hand through the smaller boy's hair, "but I love him like he was a real one."

"_Technically_," Kurt said, struggling to escape Finn's grip, "you're my _ex_ step brother. And realistically, you'll be my _dead_ ex step brother if you don't get your hands OUT OF MY HAIR!"

He all but shrieked the last sentence, finally pushing Finn off and reaching for his hair.

"You're lucky I haven't fixed it for our performance yet," he said, glaring.

"Actually, I kinda like it like that," Tiago slapped away Kurt's hands to adjust one or two locks himself, "you look... wild."

He ignored the bitch glare Kurt sent him and stepped back, cocking his head to admire his handiwork.

"Beautiful," he smiled. "Now, how about we meet up some time next week? Let me console you about your inevitable loss tonight?"

Tiago winked, but Kurt wasn't impressed.

"If there's anyone who's going to need consolation it's gonna be you, Tiago Warbler," he said haughtily, although his eyes sparkled, "but I will gladly make time for that. Tuesday?"

The smaller boy shook his head, lifting one corner of his mouth in regret.

"Warblers."

"Right, forgot about that... Wednesday, then?"

"Perfect - dinner at Breadstix?"

"Deal."

"Settled! Now come on," Tiago grabbed Kurt's hand, "I want you to meet my parents."

Within seconds, they had disappeared in the crowd and Blaine watched them go, unable to shake the feeling of apprehension that had grown in him while he was watching their easy exchange. Never before in his life had he felt left out of a conversation as much as he had just now. He slowly turned around to find Finn still standing there, his hands on his stomach.

"I'm hungry."

Blaine squinted.

"Seriously, Finn? Thát's what you're thinking about now?"

"What? I can't help it!" Finn shrugged his shoulders apologetically. "I'm a teenager, my mom says it's normal."

Shaking his head, Blaine stared at Finn, unable to understand how the jock had apparently completely missed out on what had just happened under his own nose.

"No, Finn, I mean: seriously - our little brother was just asked out on a date and all you can think of is food?"

"Kurt was asked on a date?"

Blaine could tell the look of surprise on Finn's face was genuine, and he could almost see the wheels turning in the other boy's head, replaying the memory of the conversation they had just witnessed in light of this new piece of information. Before long, though, Finn started grinning.

"Cool!"

"Cool?" Blaine repeated, incredulous. This was not quite the reaction he had been going for. "_Cool_?"

"Well yeah!" Finn kept grinning like an idiot. "I know Kurt gets lonely sometimes, he deserves a little happiness, don't you think? And I like that kid, we played Halo on New Year's. Totally kicked my ass, too. You fancy a sub?"

"Finn! Just... stop thinking with your stomach for a minute and concentrate, okay?"

Blaine placed himself in front of Finn, making himself as tall as he possibly could to get his attention. If the jock couldn't figure out the problem at hand himself, Blaine was going to spell it out for him.

"Kurt, who has never dated before, has been asked out for dinner with a guy you don't even know, and you're not in the least bit worried about that?"

"Why would I be worried?" Finn looked at Blaine, not understanding. "Kurt looked happy enough to go. And I _do_ know the guy, I just told you, we played Halo together. You want ham or cheese?"

"Finn!" Blaine was baffled. "I'm serious - this is _our little brother_ we're talking about!"

"Whoa, dude, chill!" Finn took a step back in reaction to Blaine's outburst, raising his hands as if he wanted to calm him down. "Relax! Don't you think you're overreacting a little bit here? I mean, it's just dinner. I bet you go for dinner with Kurt like, all the time."

"That's diff-"

"Look - I get get that you want to protect Kurt and stuff, but Kurt's a smart guy. And if that kid does anything to hurt him, I promise I'll gladly help you kick his ass, throw him in a dumpster and... kick the dumpster. But until that happens, I think we should trust Kurt to do what he thinks will make him happy. So unless you're telling me now that that guy is some kind of drug dealer or that he's straight, I'm gonna go grab something to eat, ok?"

Finn looked at Blaine questioningly, but when he didn't receive a reply, he just shrugged.

"Okay then... so yeah... bye, Blaine. And... break an arm. Or something."

Finn lifted his hand in goodbye and Blaine returned the gesture absentmindedly, turning to look at where Tiago and Kurt were standing with Tiago's parents. He just couldn't understand how could Finn let this go so easily - Kurt was his brother, too, after all. How did he not worry about Kurt dating, whether Kurt wouldn't get hurt, whether the guy he was seeing was even good enough for him?

_Kurt deserves a little happiness, don't you think?_

Well, yeah, of course Kurt deserved happiness, but what worried Blaine was whether Tiago was the right guy for Kurt to be happy with. Sure, he was a sweet kid, and Blaine even had to admit he was kinda cute with his dark skin and his toothpaste smile. Plus he got the whole cute foreign accent going for him. But he was small, even smaller than Blaine, and he could be very child-like, all bounce and enthusiasm and no brain. If you asked Blaine, Kurt needed something more: someone older, more mature. And although he didn't share any classes with the boy, Blaine was prepared to bet Tiago's GPA was at least 0.5 points lower than his own. He didn't share Kurt's love for fashion or theatre, hell, the kid didn't even like show tunes! Sure, he was a proud Warbler, but everyone knew Tiago's acceptance had been a close call, the Council having been more impressed with his stage presence and moves than with his actual voice. And he had never even seen The Sound Of Music!

A familiar high pitched laugh brought Blaine back to reality, and through the mass of bodies surrounding him Blaine could see Kurt and Tiago laughing about something, casually laying an arm around each other's waist and pulling each other in, Kurt resting his head on the smaller boy's shoulder for just a second before they broke away.

Blaine felt the knot of worry in his stomach growing at the sight. Tiago was not the right guy for Kurt, he just wasn't. Blaine couldn't say why exactly, or how he knew with such certainty, he just... knew. And he cared too much about Kurt to let him get hurt like that.

Suddenly, he thought of Kyle, and what he had said to Blaine that day when he'd freaked out at the stables.

_You can fool everyone, including yourself, saying that you care this much about Kurt simply because he's your brother, but you can't fool me. I see the way you act around him, Blaine. Maybe if you opened your eyes, you'd see it too._

And with a sudden pang the realization hit him.

He wasn't worried at all.

He was jealous.

-o0o-

He all but blew their performance at Sectionals that night - forgot a line here, skipped a step there, ... and although none of his fellow Warblers said anything about it afterwards, Blaine knew they all secretly blamed him for their loss. He felt guilty, he really did, because he knew they were at least partially right (although in all fairness they probably would have lost even if Blaine had put on the performance of a lifetime), but somehow he couldn't bring himself to care all that much.

It was strange, he thought, sitting in his room the next day, that a feeling he had apparently been able to ignore for God knows how long could suddenly dominate his every thought now that he had become aware of it. He was in love with Kurt. He was in love with Kurt - and when exactly did that happen?

Kyle had laughed softly when he had called Blaine earlier that day to ask how Sectionals had been and Blaine had had to admit why their performance had gone less than smoothly. _Some people fall hard and fast_, Kyle had said, _others flutter down slowly and gently, like a feather, only noticing how far they've fallen when they hit the ground._

Even so, Blaine cursed himself for not realizing it sooner. The moment he found out about Kurt's feelings would have been nice, for example. Or really, anytime before Kurt had moved out. Just thinking of all the possibilities if Kurt and he had started dating while they were still living under the same roof was enough to make Blaine's insides flutter and send his mind to places he didn't know existed, places he wasn't even allowed to go. Because the fact of the matter remained: Kurt and he were _not_ dating. In fact, Finn's doubts aside, Blaine was convinced Kurt might actually be dating _someone else_.

And how exactly was he supposed to deal with this now? What exactly was he supposed to do when he saw Kurt, when Kurt called him, when...

*ping*

... Kurt came online?

Blaine looked in horror at his laptop screen where the little message had just popped up. Before he had the clarity of mind to change his status to 'offline', though, Kurt had already sent him a message.

_KEHummel - Hi Blaine_

For a moment, Blaine felt tempted to say he didn't have time right now and to just log off, but he knew Kurt wouldn't easily buy that. It was Sunday, after all, and Kurt had spent one too many lazy Sundays at the Andersons to believe anything important would be happening on that day.

'Courage', he whispered to himself, wiping the sweat off his palms before he started typing.

_BlaineWarbler - hi  
><em>_BlaineWarbler - how r u?  
><em>_KEHummel - I would be better if you would learn to spell, but I'm still basking in yesterday's victory, so I won't hold it against you this time._

Despite himself, Blaine felt himself let out a giggle.

_BlaineWarbler - Sorry. And congratulations, by the way, didn't have the chance to see you anymore after the show._

Technically, he hadn't given himself a chance to go see Kurt after the show, but Kurt didn't need to know that.

_KEHummel - I accept your apology ánd the congratulations.  
><em>_KEHummel - Now, I have good news and bad news.  
><em>_BlaineWarbler - You've been asked to work for Alexander McQueen but your dad won't let you move to the UK on your own? ;)  
><em>_KEHummel - Not yet, no. Although I can assure you that in such a case my dad wouldn't be able to stop me even if he wanted to.  
><em>_KEHummel - It's about Nicky._

Blaine froze in his seat. He hadn't given much thought to Nicky and their impulsive and completely unstructured plan to find him anymore, lately. For starters, he had been a bit preoccupied by a recent epiphany he'd had, and secondly... the possibility of actually seeing his little brother again scared him more than he liked to admit. He hád abandoned him, after all, even if it hadn't been his choice to do so. What if Nicky was mad at him? What if _he_ didn't want to see _Blaine_?

He was afraid to admit these thoughts even to Kurt though, especially since Kurt was putting so much effort into finding Nicky and so Blaine urged himself to stay calm. They hadn't found him just yet, after all.

_BlaineWarbler - Yes?  
><em>_KEHummel - Carole came to our house today._

For some reason, Blaine felt immediately alarmed.

_BlaineWarbler - Does that mean the good news is really good or the bad news is really bad?  
><em>_KEHummel - Neither.  
><em>_KEHummel - I secretly suspect she just wanted an excuse to stop by and see my dad.  
><em>_BlaineWarbler - :)  
><em>_KEHummel - So, what do you want to start with?  
><em>_BlaineWarbler - Eh... the bad news?  
><em>_KEHummel - Carole got an address.  
><em>_BlaineWarbler - ?  
><em>_BlaineWarbler - And this is bad how?  
><em>_KEHummel - 31st Third Oak Street, 43326 Kenton_

Blaine felt his heart skip a beat as he read over the line a couple of times.

_BlaineWarbler - That's... our address.  
><em>_KEHummel - Exactly.  
><em>_KEHummel - My guess is they either hadn't officially changed his domicile at the time, or they did it on purpose in case we'd try exactly this. Though my guess would be on the first.  
><em>_BlaineWarbler - So... back to square one.  
><em>_KEHummel - Unfortunately, yes.  
><em>_KEHummel - But you haven't heard the good news yet.  
><em>_BlaineWarbler - Is it as dubiously good as the bad is bad?  
><em>_KEHummel - ...  
><em>_KEHummel - I'm just going to ignore that.  
><em>_KEHummel_ - C_arole had a look at his medical file.  
><em>_KEHummel - She wouldn't tell me any specifics, of course, BUT she said not to worry - he's still in one piece.  
><em>_BlaineWarbler - She said THAT?  
><em>_BlaineWarbler - Because that doesn't reassure me. At all.  
><em>_KEHummel - Well, she said "I can't guarantee anything, but assuming he received proper care after leaving the hospital, I expect he would be fully recovered.".  
><em>_KEHummel - I'm paraphrasing, but you get the idea._

Blaine closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, feeling suddenly ten pounds lighter.

Someone, a nurse, who knew about this stuff, had looked at Nicky's file and said he would be alright. Nicky was alright. Whatever had happened to him... he was all right and Blaine wasn't sure if he felt like crying or laughing.

_KEHummel - Blaine?  
><em>_KEHummel - You there?  
><em>_BlaineWarbler - Yeah... yeah...  
><em>_BlaineWarbler - That's great news.  
><em>_BlaineWarbler - That's just... more than I could've hoped for, now.  
><em>_BlaineWarbler - Thank Carole for me, yes?  
><em>_KEHummel - I will.  
><em>_KEHummel - So, are we still up for tomorrow?_

And that small sentence was all it took for Blaine to regain all the pounds he had just lost and then some: he was supposed to meet Kurt tomorrow to dig into some news paper articles Kurt had apparently found.

_KEHummel - Blaine?  
><em>_KEHummel - We could do it another time, if something came up.  
><em>_BlaineWarbler - Nono. It's okay. Breadstix after school, I can do that.  
><em>_KEHummel - Great :).  
><em>_KEHummel - See you tomorrow!_

_*Kurt Hummel has logged off.*_

Blaine stared at his screen for a good five minutes before he could no longer ignore the way the walls in his room seemed to be closing in on him. He quickly got up to change into his horse riding gear - there were a few things on his mind he could really do with forgetting, right now.

* * *

><p><strong>Please everybody thank the lovely Violethillbeautiful who suggested to make Blaine jealous or have Finn talk to Blaine about the meaning of being stepbrothers... I don't know if this is what you had in mind, but I kind of combined both ideas and then the above happened :).<strong>

**It's a rather short chapter, but I like to think it makes up for it in importance ;). And then we are almost there... yes: just two chapters left, and I will be able to sleep again at night! Also, on a completely unrelated note something I continue to forget to mention in my A/Ns - has anybody paid attention to what was on the cupboard behind Blaine when he was dancing in his room in TFT? Fecking horse riding trophies, that's what! Judging from the pictures they are most likely from polo and not jumping, but anyways, I still allowed myself a small freak-out over it.**

**Thanks to everyone for reviewing, alerting, and favorite'ing (what on earth is the right verb for that, exactly?), I hope you're looking forward for Tuesday's chapter as much as I am!**


	18. I finally found you

**A/N - I'm not a very triggery person, so I'm never sure what classifies as a trigger, but there are references to substance abuse and child neglect in the second scene. Just so you know.**

* * *

><p>Seeing Kurt the next day was even harder than Blaine had expected. He had tried to prepare himself for it the whole day, to tell himself it wasn't a big deal - that it was just Kurt. Just Kurt.<p>

But that's where he made the mistake, because it wasn't just Kurt. Not anymore.

Blaine had always known Kurt had beautiful eyes, the color of which changed according to his mood and the weather. He had been aware of his soft voice, and of the way he squinted whenever he giggled. From the very first day, he had enjoyed Kurt's quick wit, his remarkable sense of humor, his snarky comments. He already knew and loved all of that, and more, but still, somehow, it was as if he had never really appreciated any of it before now, as if he had met Kurt all over again when he had walked in to the diner not even half an hour ago - and it was driving him crazy. He wanted nothing more than to just wrap his arms around the unsuspecting boy next to him, to kiss him, and cuddle him - to tell him he cared about him, too. But he couldn't.

Granted, Kurt had admitted Mercedes had been right when she had told Blaine at New Year's that Kurt was in love with him - but New Year's was more than two months ago. Blaine had replayed last week's conversation in his head over and over again, but nowhere had Kurt stated that he still felt the same way about Blaine now as he did then. For all Blaine knew, Kurt's crush could have passed, his window of opportunity had closed, and what was worse: Kurt could actually be falling in love with Tiago. And how unfair would it be of Blaine to tell Kurt: 'Hey, I know you're finally over me and moving on, but I kind of just discovered I really really like you, too, so could you just forget about the other guy and give me a chance now?'.

Still, Blaine had seen one too many romcom misunderstandings to just give up. He had to give it a shot. He had to at least try. And with both of them sitting in the relative privacy of one of Breadstix' corner boots, now was as good a time as any.

"So," he said, fighting to keep his tone light and conversational, "what's going on with you and Tiago?"

Kurt briefly looked up from the article he was reading, casting Blaine a sideway glance.

"Me and Tiago? Nothing's _going on_ with me and Tiago. We're friends. Why are you even asking?"

"No reason," Blaine shrugged, already feeling strangely elated, although he wasn't quite ready to start hoping yet. "You guys have been meeting up a lot lately, 's all. And dinner on Wednesday."

He glanced at Kurt, hoping to catch some kind of reaction but getting none.

"And since Tiago's gay too, I figured maybe..."

He let the sentence trail, not wanting to actually say something definite for fear of making it real.

"I know he's gay, Blaine," Kurt replied a little impatiently, not even bothering to look up from his papers this time, "but I can be friends with a gay guy, can't I? I mean, _we're_ friends too, aren't we? And Tiago was, like, my best friend at Dalton. Apart from you, obviously. So yeah, we go for coffee sometimes. Actually, Wednesday will be the first time we'll do dinne-"

Kurt cut himself off mid-sentence and Blaine froze in anticipation, watching him as he seemed to realize something.

"Do you... would he... "

Kurt seemed to be scared to even finish his sentence, taking a deep breath before turning to Blaine.

"Do you think... he thinks... Wednesday is a... _date_?"

Blaine wasn't sure what it was that made his stomach jolt - the heartbreaking mixture of surprise and anxiety in Kurt's voice, or the fact that, at least for Kurt, his dinner date with Tiago was obviously not a _date_ date. Blaine's whole being screamed for him to just say no, to tell Kurt he was seeing ghosts, but deep down inside he knew he couldn't do that. For one, Tiago deserved a shot at Kurt as much -and maybe even more so- as Blaine did. And secondly, if Kurt had feelings for Tiago, any feelings at all, Blaine needed to know. He braced himself.

"Do you want it to be?"

Kurt stared at him for a few seconds before he fell back into his seat.

"I don't know," he said, a little out of breath. "I don't know. I mean... I like him. I really do. And he's hot. But... he's one of my best friends. I just... I guess I just never thought about him that way before. As more than a friend, I mean. I... I don't know. Maybe?"

Blaine felt an ice cold hand close around his heart. Kurt usually referred to people in terms of either their fashion sense or their bitchiness - to hear him compliment someone on their looks, call them 'hot', even... it was so out of character that there was no doubt in Blaine's mind he meant it. He wondered if this was how Kurt had felt every time he had talked about Kyle.

_I never thought about him that way before._

I never thought about you that way before, Blaine realized suddenly, looking at Kurt. I was so fixated on trying to be a brother for you that I never even let myself see that you could be more - not even when you told me with so many words that, for you, I was. _We_ were.

The cold around his heart seemed to be spreading throughout his body, and Blaine felt the confusion and frustration rise in his chest. Did this mean he was too late? Had he really thrown away all chances he had been given to see if he and Kurt were worth something?

"No."

Kurt shook his head, and it took Blaine a moment to realize he was still talking about Tiago.

"No. I couldn't. I can't. I mean... ," Kurt paused, glancing at Blaine. "I'm not ready."

And Blaine was pretty sure his heart was ready to jump out of his chest right there and then. Because if this meant what he thought it meant, if _that glance_ held what he thought it held... he still had one last chance.

It didn't seem like he would be able to use it that day, though.

"Well look at that, if it isn't Gayer and Gayest," a bitchy voice cut Blaine off before he could even speak. "Are you trying to teach him origami or does your boyfriend just like to collect old newspapers?"

"He's not my boyfriend, Santana," Kurt sighed, shooting an apologetic look at Blaine before he let his eyes trail towards the Latina's hand, whose fingers were intertwined with those of the much paler, much blonder girl standing next to her. As soon as she noticed his gaze though, Santana let go.

"No one told you it's not polite to stare?" she snapped at him.

"No one told you it's not polite to interrupt a conversation?" he bit right back. His voice softened when he turned towards the other girl, though.

"Hi Brittany."

"Hi Kurt. What are you doing? Are you writing for the Muckracker? Because I could totally help out with that."

Kurt smiled at her.

"Blaine lost his brother so we're trying to find him again."

"Have you tried the supermarket?" Brittany asked, the blank look on her face making it painfully clear she was completely serious. "I found my brother in the supermarket once."

"You have a brother?"

Kurt wrecked his brain, but he was pretty sure he had never heard Brittany mention having a brother before.

"I didn't used to," Brittany replied, sounding sad. "Until I found him in that supermarket. But he ran off and I never saw him again."

Feeling thoroughly confused now, Kurt decided it was best to leave the matter alone and turned his attention back to Santana, who was looking at something she had picked up from the mess of papers covering their table.

"This is a really cute picture," she said, a hint of a smile playing around her lips. "When was this taken? It must be at least two years ago."

"A little less than that, actually," Kurt smirked, snatching the picture out of her hands, "how could you tell."

It was meant as a rhetorical question, but Santana either didn't realize or didn't care, because she answered it nevertheless.

"His hair is much longer now. I haven't seen it that short since he came back."

Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Oh please, Santana, don't pretend like you even know him. Now would you please excuse us, we're trying to work here."

"Hey, I've only been babysitting the kid for half of my life but yeah, sure, you're right, I don't know the first thing about him."

She glared at Kurt. "Come on, Brit, let's leave these two love birds alone with their denial."

Normally, Kurt wouldn't have let that last remark slip without a comment, or at least a glare of his own, but as it was neither he nor Blaine had even heard it. Instead, they were looking at each other, the shock on their faces apparent.

"Santana babysits?" Kurt whispered, incredulous.

"Who even cares?" Blaine whispered back, turning around in his seat and scrambling onto his knees.

"Santana!"

.

Five minutes later, the four of them were sitting around the same table, Brittany amusing herself by carefully blowing bubbles into her milkshake as Santana told them more about how she knew Nicky.

"His mother is a friend of my sister's. They went to school together - or at least they did until Diana got pregnant. She dropped out, got a job, seemed to be doing alright. Until her boyfriend got another chick pregnant and left. She replaced him with glass."

Both Kurt and Blaine stared at her, not understanding.

"Crystal. Meth." Santana rolled her eyes at the apparent need for an explanation. "Seriously, guys, do you live under a rock or something?"

"Well I'm sorry we're not familiar with your eloquent street lingo to refer to hard drugs!" Kurt snapped. He would have added a snarky remark or two if it hadn't been for Blaine placing his hand softly on top of his arm. The unspoken message hung silently between them and Kurt forced himself to calm down.

"So... his mother was a junk?" Blaine asked tentatively. He didn't want to set Santana off by asking the wrong questions, but he really wanted her to continue talking - he needed to hear this story, needed to collect every bit of information that could possibly help him find his kid brother.

Santana shrugged.

"On and off. She tried. There were periods, weeks, months even, where everything would seem fine. And then she'd relapse, for some reason or another. She really found the wrong drug at the wrong time - if it had been anything else, it would've been so much easier to get her cleaned up, but meth's a bitch. It's ironic she actually called her son Nicholas after the patron saint of children, because God knows he needed the protection - best case scenario she would just forget to feed him, worst case scenario he'd land under a tipped over cupboard when she got aggressive. We'd take Nicky in whenever things got too bad, to give him a break and at least some sense of normalcy... ."

"Santana the good Samaritan, that's definitely a first," Kurt whispered sarcastically at Blaine - soft, but not soft enough.

"Listen here, miss White Picket Fence," Santana all but scowled at him, "there's a lot of things we don't has in Lima Heights Adjacent. We don't has perfectly mowed lawns, or flowers on the window sills. We don't get to call the police when we get robbed because they're too chicken to actually come, and nobody has bothered to come fix the swings in our sorry excuse for a park since some dumb-ass managed to set fire to them when I was in second grade. But we _do_ has each other, and we look out for each other, is that clear?"

Taken aback and a little paler than usual, Kurt nodded - even he knew not to mess with the volatile Latina if cared about his life at all. The silence that followed hung heavily between them, and strangely it was Blaine who broke it.

"Thank you," he said, reaching for Santana's hand, "for taking care of him."

The remark earned him the unique sight of an almost embarrassed Santana, but the moment quickly passed and she promptly withdrew her hand from below his.

"Yeah, well, don't thank me," she said sarcastically, "in the end even we couldn't protect him anymore. Diana finally ran out of luck when Nicky was about five or six, and she O.D.'d. She spent months in the hospital and because Nicky's dad refused to take him in, they shipped him off to some foster family. The only good thing that came out of it was that it was a wake up call for Diana, and she finally started working on getting better. For herself, and for Nicky. It still took her almost three years before she got custody back, though, and when he finally came home, he had this major scar on his left side and a crooked nose, because apparently that family that was supposed to take care of him had dropped him off a horse or something."

"That was an accident!" Blaine all but screamed at a perplexed Santana, the guilt in his voice painfully obvious. "I never meant for that to happen! It was an accident, he ran on the course and he... it... it was an accident..."

A frustrated sob left his throat as he pressed the heel of his hands against his eyes. Instantly, he could feel Kurt's arms around him, holding him, rubbing softly over his back and he gratefully leaned in in the embrace.

Santana stared at the little scene with her eyebrows raised in mock surprise.

"And how would _you_ know, preppy boy?"

Blaine didn't immediately answer, and so it was Kurt who turned to Santana.

"Nicky was Blaine's foster brother. He... ," Kurt glanced down at Blaine, unsure what he was allowed to say and what not. "Blaine was there, when the accident happened."

"Wait!" Santana raised her hand, the surprised look on her face genuine this time as she gave Blaine a once over. "_You're_ Bubaine?"

Blaine's head jerked up at the mention of the nickname, and Kurt turned to look at him, his eyebrows raised in amusement.

"Bubaine?"

Blaine looked back at him sheepishly, a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

"Bubba... Blaine... he was only six, alright!"

The pink quickly turned a deeper shade as Kurt shook his head, smiling now, but Santana didn't wait to ruin the moment.

"I can't believe this. Seriously, the way he talks about his Bubaine I expected some kind of crossing between Hercules and Shang, not Aladdin with a Peter Pan complex."

If she counted on Blaine to react to the insult, however, she was mistaken, because he barely even registered it. The implications of the fact that she knew that particular nickname, on the other hand, were clear as day to him.

"You mean you still see him?"

"I already told you that half an hour ago, didn't I? He's my sister's godson, for Christ's sake - he spends more time at our house than I do!"

Santana looked at the two boys sitting across from her, who suddenly seemed to have lost all ability to speak.

"What?"

Kurt licked his lips nervously, glancing once more at Blaine before he spoke.

"Santana, we need to ask you something."

-o0o-

_"Kurt, I'm freaking out here!"_

_"I can hear that, yes, you've almost destroyed my eardrums with all the squealing you've been doing."_

_"Oh come on, give me a break! I'm gonna see him again and I don't even know if I should be exited or nervous or scared so I'm just feeling it all at once and, Kurt - I don't know what to do!"_

_"Blaine, I've sung you 'Soft Kitty', we've played the alphabet game with our favorite Broadway actors -I still think Kristin Chenoweth trumps Tim Curry, by the way-, and we picked outfits for tomorrow. There's nothing much more I can do from here, you know. Just think. What do you usually do when you get nervous?"_

_Silence, and then a soft laugh from the other side of the line._

_"Blaine?"_

_"I think I have an idea..."_

-o0o-

"Kurt, are you going to come out soon or what?" Blaine shouted through the bathroom door.

The reply came instantly.

"Remind me again why I'm doing this?"

"Because tomorrow I'm seeing my long lost foster brother for the first time in almost two years and I'm freaking out and I need a distraction!"

There was no reply, and Blaine pressed his ear against the door, trying to make out what was happening. The only thing he heard were muffled sounds and grunts, and something that sounded suspiciously like 'This is so not my style.".

He banged on the door again.

"Kurt, if you're not coming out soon, I'm gonna come in!"

He grinned when he heard Kurt yelp.

"You wouldn't!"

"Wanna bet?"

"I locked the door!"

"I have two words for you: Spare. Key."

Immediately, Blaine could hear Kurt fiddle with the lock and he took a step back right as the door finally opened.

He swallowed hard.

Kurt was standing in the doorway, wearing a loose shirt that was not usually his style, but it was his pants that made Blaine gasp for air. The riding pants that Blaine had given Kurt were stretched taut over his thighs and ass, and Blaine had to force himself not to let his eyes linger on Kurt's long legs.

"They're too short," Kurt stated dryly.

"That'll teach you being taller than me," Blaine quipped, surprised to find his voice more or less stable. "Nobody's gonna see once you put your boots on, though. So... let's go?"

He made an inviting gesture with his arm, but it seemed Kurt wasn't quite as ready as he looked.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

The hint of uncertainty in Kurt's voice was obvious, and Blaine cocked his head.

"Kurt... I'm a four-time winner of the Ohio State Jumping Championship, I know what I'm doing - and you're the only friend I have that I haven't put on a horse yet." He walked towards Kurt, putting his hands on the other boy's shoulders as he looked him in the eyes. "So... just trust me on this one, ok? You're gonna love it, I promise."

Kurt made a skeptical face, and before Blaine could second guess himself, he pressed a light kiss on Kurt's forehead.

"Come on. Let's have fun."

He walked out of the room and into the hall, not noticing that Kurt didn't immediately follow but stood frozen for a moment, a baffled look on his face. Not only had Blaine just given him a kiss on his forehead like it was the most normal thing in the world, there was something else that hadn't escaped Kurt's attention: for the first time in months, Blaine hadn't referred to him as a brother, but as a friend.

.

It didn't take them long to walk up to the stable at the back of the Anderson's property, and Kurt watched nervously as Blaine took out a large bucket containing a number of brushes similar to those Kurt had seen Kyle handle. Blaine whistled at Tornado.

"I'm gonna clean him first, but just watch for now, ok, and then I'll show you later if you'd like."

Kurt nodded wordlessly, climbing onto the fence while Blaine quickly set to work, cleaning out the horse's feet and carefully combing and brushing every square inch of its body. For all the talking about horses that they'd done lately, it was the first time Kurt actually saw Blaine around one -not counting the time he had snatched Kurt away from Meryem a couple of weeks earlier, of course- and he watched in amazement as Blaine talked softly to the animal throughout the whole procedure, stroking him in practiced movements that seemed to calm both himself and the horse.

Much too soon, though, Blaine put away the brushes and took a wide, leather belt and what Kurt supposed was a bridle. He carefully put them on the horse, tugging a little to check they were securely fastened, but not too tight, before he turned to Kurt.

"Ready?"

Kurt hesitantly came down from the fence, looking at the animal standing behind Blaine. The horse suddenly appeared particularly tall, although Kurt had to admit part of the reason was probably because Blaine was standing right next to him - most everyone looked tall compared to Blaine. Still, something seemed not quite right.

"I know I'm the amateur here but... isn't he supposed to wear a... saddle, or something?" Kurt asked, the doubt in his voice more than apparent.

Blaine smiled in amusement.

"I'm not gonna let you ride in the saddle just yet - when I teach I prefer to do some lunging first. That way I control the horse and you can just focus on finding a good balance and getting your posture right."

"I really feel I would find a better balance if I could sit in a saddle," Kurt said, sounding more than a little unsure about the whole ordeal.

"And _I_ really feel you should trust me," Blaine said, holding out his hand and pulling Kurt in closer. "Here, put your foot there... right... and hold with your hand there... don't worry, you're not gonna hurt him... good. Now - pull with your arm and push... there! There you go!"

Blaine smiled up at Kurt who was now sitting on the back of the horse, looking a bit phased as to how exactly he got up there.

"Are you okay?" Blaine asked, quickly untying Tornado from the fence.

"I... think so... ," Kurt replied, his voice just a little bit higher than usual. "It's... kinda high."

"It's not as high as it looks like," Blaine tried to reassure him, "just relax. Now, hold on to the handles on the girth... no, palms facing upwards. Like that, exactly."

Blaine led the horse into the field, attaching a long line to the halter over the horse's nose once they were far enough from the fence. As he started walking backwards though, unwinding the rope he was holding, he could hear Kurt take in a sharp breath.

"Blaine, were are you going? Blaine? Blaine, where are you?"

The panic in Kurt's voice was not even barely concealed, and Blaine hurried towards the tensed up boy as fast as he could without startling Tornado, placing his hand reassuringly on Kurt's thigh.

"Kurt? I'm right here, Kurt, relax. Look at me..."

Slowly, Kurt turned his head, and Blaine smiled up at him.

"You're not going to fall off, I promise."

"I was more worried about Tornado just running off with me somewhere, actually," Kurt attempted to joke.

Blaine's smile widened.

"_No one_ is going to run off with you, Kurt. I won't let them."

Somehow, Kurt had the feeling Blaine was talking about something completely different, but before he could react, Blaine had returned to teacher mode.

"Now, bring your shoulders back, back straight... that's it."

He continued talking as he walked back to the center of the field, partly to give Kurt some much needed instructions, but mainly to calm him down. Finally, Blaine could see the tension gradually ebbing away from the other boy's shoulders.

"First, I'm just gonna have Tornado walk, okay? Just walking, nothing fancy, so just relax, remember what I told you about your posture, try to just enjoy it."

Kurt nodded stiffly, still letting out a small yelp of alarm when he felt the horse below him start moving. To his own surprise, however, he quickly found himself relax into the movement. There was something soothing about the horse's rhythm, and soon enough he let himself be carried by the sedate pace of the horse as it walked round and round, easily following Blaine's lead.

"Straighten your back!"

Kurt immediately shot upright, the sudden movement almost bringing him out of balance and he quickly repositioned himself.

"You told me to relax!" he shouted indignantly.

Blaine laughed in response.

"You can relax with your back straight!"

"Are you making fun of me?"

"I wouldn't dare!"

There was a tad too much amusement in Blaine's voice, though, and Kurt turned his head to send him one of his famous glares. The look in his eyes softened as soon as he caught sight of Blaine, however, because for all the amusement that had sounded in Blaine's voice, his attitude was completely different. The energy and passion that were so characteristic of Blaine in everything he did were still there, but they were more contained, somehow, more controlled. Lunge line in one hand, whip in the other, Blaine looked like the epitope of concentration and confidence, easily guiding Tornado to go where and how he wanted him to go, and Kurt couldn't remember when he had ever seen him so relaxed, so self-assured, so inherently... _happy_. Blaine must have felt him staring though, and as he caught Kurt's eyes, his face broke open in a wide smile.

"I know I'm quite something to look at, Kurt," he called out teasingly, "but I would really appreciate it if you could just look straight ahead right now."

Kurt's cheeks flushed as he snapped his head back. There it was again, that flirtatious side of Blaine. It had been gone for so long that Kurt hadn't even realized how much he had missed it until it had started to reappear on occasion over the past few days. He silently wondered if this meant he would never be able to forget about this boy, because for all the progress he had been making in trying to get over Blaine, a single remark like that invariably set him back right where he had started.

They kept their easy banter up for the rest of the session, Kurt slowly gaining more confidence, even trying a trot at one point, until Blaine called it a day.

"I think that's been enough for now. Tornado can't really take long lunge sessions anymore, and I want you to still be able to actually move, tomorrow," he winked. "I'll help you get down and then I'll show you how to do the grooming and everything, alright?"

"Sure."

Kurt tried to keep his posture straight as Blaine led Tornado back to the fence, waiting patiently until Blaine came up to him to help him return to his two feet.

"Just grab there... exactly, just as you did to get on... pull on your arms... now, swing your leg over."

Kurt tried to follow the instructions as closely as possible, but he slightly miscalculated the swinging force of his leg, and the sudden change in momentum almost made him lose his balance. He all but stumbled to the ground but before he could actually fall, two strong arms caught him, effortlessly lifting him back to his feet.

"Easy there," Blaine smiled, "I don't know what Burt would do to me if I didn't get you back to him in one piece, but I'm pretty sure I don't want to find out."

"Yeah, well, he doesn't really have a gun, but I've seen him cause major damage with a wrench, so look out for those," Kurt joked uneasily.

He shifted slightly in Blaine's arms, flustered by the sudden closeness, waiting for the moment when Blaine would inevitably let him go. It didn't come, though, and they simply stood together for a few moments - Kurt with his arms tucked against Blaine's chest, and Blaine with his arms solidly wrapped around Kurt's waist.

"Did you have fun?" Blaine asked softly.

Kurt simply nodded, staring at his hands, afraid to look Blaine in the eye. He had never been more aware of Blaine's presence, their bodies pressed closely together, and he took a deep, slow, breath in an attempt to calm his racing heartbeat. He whimpered involuntarily as he felt the pressure release on one side of his body, but it wasn't until he felt a hand brushing softly against his cheek that he found the courage to look up.

He was met by a look that Kurt was sure he had never seen directed at him before. There was adoration and wonder in Blaine's eyes, but with a trace of something else... fear, or anxiety, maybe. Kurt felt his stomach jolt. Was Blaine... nervous?

"Are you ok?", he asked curiously.

Blaine didn't reply immediately, closing his eyes as he drew in a short breath.

"I told you I'm an ignorant fool sometimes," he finally said, his voice still soft. "Apparently it holds true for other people's feelings as well as my own. Because I really, really care about you, Kurt. And I'm sorry it took another guy to make a move on you before I realized just how much exactly you mean to me. I know I told you you'd always be my brother but... if you let me... I would like for us to be more than that."

Kurt swallowed hard, closing his eyes as he desperately tried to resist the urge to pinch himself. He could feel Blaine gently brush away a stray lock of hair, and he reluctantly focussed his gaze on Blaine's eyes, afraid that they would tell him that Blaine was just messing with him, that this was all just a dream. They didn't, however, and Kurt felt his heart rate speed up as he let Blaine trail his hand alongside his cheek, cupping his jaw.

"Can I?"

Kurt didn't need to ask what Blaine meant, and a wave of gratitude washed over him because Blaine, at least, had the decency to ask, instead of simply taking.

'Heaven' was what Blaine had said when he had described his first real kiss, and now Kurt finally knew what he meant. Blaine's lips were moving smoothly against his own, a little chappy but somehow Kurt knew he wouldn't have wanted it any other way. He surprised himself with how effortlessly he returned the pressure, instinctively knowing how to respond to Blaine's every move, wishing he could hold on to this moment forever.

When they finally broke away, Blaine looked almost embarrassed, but he was smiling, and Kurt could see his cheeks were flushed. A small smile formed around his lips.

"Weren't you supposed to... show me something?"

Blaine let out a small giggle in response, smiling back at Kurt with a mischievous light in his eyes.

"I thought I was..."

* * *

><p><strong>DUM. DUM-DUM. *insert cockblocking keyboard here* ;)<strong>

**One day later, but I really wasn't ready to post this yesterday. The Santana story telling scene caused me major trouble, and I almost left it out, and then the rest... it was supposed to be perfect. I don't even remember how often I went over this chapter, I feel like I could recite it by heart, so much so that the only effective way of beta'ing was to read the whole thing out loud to myself. Those are the moments I'm happy to live alone :).**

**Either way, they made it! (although of course, in this day and age, a kiss doesn't always necessarily yield a relationship...) (sorry, I'm just trolling now :) ) I'm sure everyone noticed how I shamelessly borrowed from canon for the kiss, I hope I was able to make it respectful and not too cheesy...**

**In the next, and final chapter, we'll finally get to meet Nicky! It will likely be short, and although I don't want to make any promises as to when it will be up, I aim to have this finished by the end of the month. There _might_ be an epilogue, I'm still tossing ideas for that, but it would be probably be cheesy and I'm not sure if I want to put you all through that.**

**Hugs for all of you readers, and an extra kiss for all reviewers!**


	19. My missing puzzle piece

As soon as the doorbell rang, Kurt sprinted upstairs. Or rather - ran up the stairs. Or really - arduously made his way up the stairs. The horse riding lesson, for all of twenty minutes that it had lasted, had alerted his body to the existence of a whole range of forgotten muscles, and he was aching all over.

"I got it!" he called out to his dad as he passed the living room and went straight to the front door, all but yanking it open. The huge smile on his face faltered, however, as soon as he let his eyes trail along the body of the person in front of him.

"Hi?" Blaine said tentatively, the abrupt change in Kurt's demeanor not escaping his attention.

"That is not what we agreed on," Kurt said, sounding exasperated. "I told you: navy McQueen jeans, dark red polo shirt, ash grey striped Marc Jacobs cardigan, russet Vuitton dress shoes. Which part of that did you not understand?"

Blaine looked down apprehensively, scanning over the brown shoes, blue jeans, red polo and, finally, the grey cardigan he was currently wearing, before he looked back up at Kurt.

"I don't know?"

"You don't know which part you didn't understand or you don't know what we agreed on?"

Blaine shot him a blank look, unsure whether there was even a 'right' answer to that question, and Kurt sighed, pulling Blaine in anyway.

"Those are not your Vuitton shoes, Blaine, they're Prada, and that polo is carmine, not dark red. I mean really, I thought you read Vogue?"

Blaine shrugged his shoulders apologetically.

"I just distinguish between 'pretty clothes' and 'not pretty clothes'. I never really pay attention to the labels... or the colors... ."

"Well, it's high time you start doing so," Kurt told him, dusting off some imaginary specks from Blaine's shoulders. He eyed Blaine critically. "I suppose my dad won't notice anyway, so it'll do."

"Yo-your dad?" Blaine stuttered, suddenly ill at ease as Kurt grabbed his hand and tugged him towards where Blaine vaguely remembered was the living room. "I thought... I-I mean... you said to pick you up and... we should go?"

But he was pretty sure Kurt hadn't even heard the last few words, because not even five seconds later he found himself in the middle of the Hummel living room, standing less than four feet away from the man who, he was told, was particularly deft with a wrench. Blaine wasn't sure whether he was angry at Kurt for tricking him into this meet-the-parent trap or grateful he at least looked good for the occasion - the stars knew he was stressing out enough as it was without having to face Burt Hummel in his new capacity as the guy who kissed his son.

"Dad?" Kurt said, waiting for the man in front of them to look up from the newspaper he was reading.

"Kurt? Oh, hey Blaine!" Burt lowered his newspaper, nodding in Blaine's direction in acknowledgement before he looked back at his son. "What's up?"

"Dad, I would like to introduce you to someone."

Kurt glanced at Blaine and back to his dad, and the smile on his face was one of pure joy and pride, as if he still couldn't believe that he was really this lucky, that this was really happening. The trembling force with which he grabbed Blaine's hand, however, betrayed him - underneath it all Kurt was at least as nervous, if not more so, as Blaine was.

Burt, meanwhile, looked at the two boys in confusion.

"Kurt, I know wh-"

"Dad," Kurt cut him off, bouncing slightly, "I would like you to meet Blaine. My boyfriend."

For Blaine, the silence that followed seemed to last an eternity and he cringed in anticipation as Burt looked him up and down and back at Kurt, opening his mouth several times to speak, until finally-

"Well... Blaine... welcome to the family, I'd say."

Blaine let out an almost audible sigh of relief and Kurt was positively beaming now, risking a chaste peck on Blaine's cheek. It was clearly meant to be a reassuring gesture, but seeing as it happened _right in front of Burt_ it only caused Blaine's just relaxed heartbeat to speed up again.

"See you, dad, we've got to go now!"

Kurt made for the door, and Blaine managed a shy wave at Burt before he followed his boyfriend's example. There was no reason to stay and risk Kurt's still-not-fully-recovered-but-nonetheless-very-intimidating father having a change of heart, after all.

"Blaine?"

... he really shouldn't have taken the time to wave, should he?

Blaine mentally berated himself for thinking he might actually get away with it so easily and turned around, putting on what he hoped was his most charming smile.

"Yes, sir?"

"Look, I know you're a good kid and all, and if Kurt believes he can trust you I'm not going to argue with him but... if you even _think_ of hurting my son..."

Burt didn't finish his sentence, but the look in his eyes was so reminiscent of that of Jack Byrnes in Meet the Parents, that it was quite obvious what he meant, and despite the fact that he was standing and Burt was still sitting, Blaine felt much, much smaller than he should have.

"I won't, sir. I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, kiddo. But I'll give you this one. And-"

"Blaine! You coming?"

"-call me Burt."

Burt smiled, and even though Blaine knew on some level it was meant to be reassuring, the effect was completely lost on him.

"Now go," Burt told him, reaching for his newspaper again, "Kurt doesn't like to be kept waiting. And I don't want _you_ to get hurt, either."

It took Blaine all of five seconds to find his voice again.

"Yes, sir. Burt, sir. Thank you, sir."

He managed a small bow -although why exactly he did that he didn't know- before he smiled back uneasily and fled the room as elegantly as he possibly could.

He was almost convinced he could hear the man chuckle behind him.

-o0o-

Meeting up at Nicky's or Santana's place had been out of the question, or at least Santana had made it pretty clear there was no way she was letting them come to Lima Heights if she could help it, and so they had arranged to meet in a park not too far from Kurt's house. It was a good twenty minute walk, but Kurt had refused to take out the car for it. 'I'm not gonna waste gas on a trip I can walk,' he had told Blaine, 'and besides, walking will help you relax a little, it will be stressful enough as it is.'

As usual, of course, he was right. As they walked, too close to each other to be coincidental, but not that close that it would arouse suspicion from curious neighbors, Blaine felt himself slowly calm down from his official introduction into the Hummel household. It had gone fairly well, all things considered, and of course he did have the advantage he wasn't just some stranger to Kurt's dad either. Still, Blaine realized that even though he would go to the end of the world for Kurt, Burt would always go one step further. He would have to make sure never to give Burt a reason to think he had to.

Blaine let his mind wander, and it automatically turned to Nicky. He wondered how the boy would react to seeing Blaine, how Blaine himself would react to seeing Nicky... and he had absolutely no idea. He felt the uncertainty slowly rise in his chest once more and quickly filed away all thoughts of his little brother, trying to focus on other things instead.

Kurt, however, misinterpreted his silence.

"Was I too presumptuous?" he asked.

"What?"

It took Blaine a moment before he realized what Kurt was talking about.

"Was I presumptuous?" Kurt repeated. "Introducing you to my dad as my... boyfriend."

He sounded anxious, and when Blaine saw how he kept his eyes on the pavement in front of him, he immediately stopped.

"No, Kurt, of course not!"

He turned Kurt by the arm to face Blaine and bent through his knees a little as he tried to catch Kurt's gaze, smiling reassuringly as they locked eyes.

"You díd put me on the spot, so a little warning next time might be nice, but- ssht!"

He shooed at Kurt, grabbing his shoulders as he saw the panic rise in the other boy's eyes.

"Kurt, it was an _honor_ to be introduced to your dad as your boyfriend."

A small hesitation, and Kurt lifted his head.

"It was?"

"It was," Blaine reassured him, "and if I hadn't seen a curtain move in that house two minutes ago I would kiss the hell out of you to prove it, but I'll give you a rain check for that, if that's ok?"

He cocked his head, smiling broadly, and Kurt smiled back tentatively, taking Blaine's outstretched hand, squeezing it softly to express his gratitude.

"So... what do you think he will say?" Kurt asked as they resumed walking.

'He' was Nicky, now, and Blaine sighed.

"I don't know. I have this romantic idea in my head where he'll just scream of happiness and run up at me and hug me, or something, but then I think I've seen too many movies and I get scared again. Maybe he'll just walk right by, won't even recognize me."

Santana had only reluctantly agreed not to actually tell Nicky he was going to see Blaine that day, but Blaine had insisted. He wanted Nicky to see him on his own terms, to have the chance to turn around and walk away.

"Maybe he'll recognize me and run off, decide that he doesn't want to see me. I díd leave him, Kurt, when he needed me most. He was all alone in that hospital, and I didn't even send him a card..."

Kurt squeezed his hand softly.

"You didn't leave him, Blaine. You never _chose_ to stay away from him. You said he's smart, he'll understand you never really left."

"He's ten, Kurt," Blaine shook his head. "He can be the smartest kid in the world but he's still only ten. And he doesn't know it was _their_ fault, all he knows is the reality and the reality of it is that I wasn't there for him."

"Don't you remember what Santana said? Do you really think he'd be talking about you like you were some kind of super hero if he hated you?"

Blaine looked aside at Kurt as they entered the park, resisting the urge to wrap his arms around the other boy and kiss him, expressing his gratitude instead by letting his thumb brush softly over Kurt's hand. Kurt responded by walking a little closer to him until they arrived at the bench they had arranged to meet Santana at -right next to a little playground that was currently deserted- and sat down.

"2:26," Kurt said, looking at his watch. "They probably won't be too long."

He glanced over at Blaine, who was writhing his hands in his lap, and he instinctively knew that it was best to just leave him be now. It didn't take long, however, before they could hear the distinct voice of a boy approach.

"Tana, I don't _want_ to go to the park today! I want to stay home and watch tv!"

"It was either the park or Sunday school," they heard a familiar voice reply just as the latina it belonged to appeared from behind a tree, "you have your pick."

Santana nodded quietly in recognition when she spotted Kurt and Blaine, but true to her word, she didn't alert Nicky, who continued to loudly express his dissatisfaction with the current situation.

"You could've found something else for us to do," he complained. "I hate the park. The park is for babies. I want to go to the mall. Or the arcade. Can we go to the arcade, Tana, please!"

He turned to Santana, his two hands held together in a prayer-like gesture, and as he did so, he finally caught sight of the two boys ahead of him, who had slowly risen to their feet in anticipation of the duo's arrival.

Afterwards, Blaine couldn't possibly say which one of them had started running first, or when exactly he had started crying - it might have been as soon as he saw Nicky appear from behind Santana, still unaware of Blaine's presence, or maybe it was when he saw that look of shock and recognition appear on Nicky's face as he caught sight of him. But most likely, he thought, it was when Nicky had cried out, on the top of his lungs:

"BUBAINE!"

It didn't matter, however, because before he knew it, he was holding Nicky, was holding _on_ to Nicky, who had all but thrown himself around Blaine's neck.

"You found me," he heard Nicky whisper over the sound of his own sobs, "you came back. I knew you'd come back."

Suddenly, he started wriggling, forcing Blaine to put him on the ground and let him go, and for a moment Blaine was confused. Nicky, however, obviously knew exactly what he wanted as he took Blaine's hand and dragged him along towards Santana.

"Tana! It's Bubaine! He found me!" he told her smugly, all but pushing Blaine at her. "Everyone said he would never come back but I told you. You wouldn't believe me, but I told you, and see! He's here! Bubaine's here!"

He didn't give her the opportunity to say something, though, because he immediately turned back to Blaine, hugging him as if he never wanted to let him go again.

.

As the two brothers talked softly to each other -'Why are you crying, Bubaine? Aren't you happy to see me?'-, Kurt made his way over to Santana, who was looking at the intimate scene in front of them with a softness in her eyes that Kurt had rarely seen there before.

"Thank you," he told her, and she looked aside, her usual look of condescension immediately back in place.

"I didn't do it for you," she said. "Or for Blaine."

"I know," Kurt smiled. "But you still did it. And the fact that you did it for _him_ is actually even more impressive. You really care about him, don't you?"

Santana snorted derisively.

"Sister's godson, remember? It kinda comes with the package."

Kurt decided to let it go. Trying to get Santana to admit she cared about something, let alone someone, was pretty much a lost cause, so this was probably the best he would get.

"So," Santana interrupted his thoughts, "not your boyfriend, ha?"

Immediately, Kurt felt his cheeks flush.

"H... how did you even..."

"Oh please," Santana rolled her eyes, "I'm surprised you were actually able to walk from that bench to here with the amount of wobbling that was going on. I have to say I'm impressed, though, I never thought you had it in you."

Kurt went from confusion over understanding to _understanding_ when he finally caught on to what Santana was referencing, and he could tell he was probably beet red by now.

"That's not... I mean, it has nothing to do with... Blaine just g-"

He cut his own nervous ramblings off as he realized that the explanation 'Blaine gave me a riding lesson' would confirm rather than invalidate Santana's apparent suspicions, and decided to go for a little white lie instead.

"I'm sore from going to the gym, that's all."

He could tell she didn't believe him, but he couldn't bring himself to care as he let his gaze drift back to the scene in front of him. Blaine was crouched in front of Nicky, listening intently to a story the little boy was enthusiastically regaling, smiling through his tears until Nicky suddenly remembered something.

"Hey, do you wanna see my scar?"

Without waiting for Blaine's answer, the little boy pulled up his shirt, turning to show his side which revealed a long, bright pink mark running from his heart and over his ribs to halfway down the small of his back. The cruel ugliness of it would have put off anyone who saw it, and Kurt could see Blaine's smile freeze as he let his eyes trail over it.

"The boys at school used to make fun of me because I'm so little," Nicky babbled, oblivious to Blaine's sudden apprehension, "but I showed them the scar so now they know I'm really tough! Now can we go for ice cream? I want ice cream."

He yanked his shirt back down and cocked his head at Blaine, who sat frozen. Kurt could almost hear him think, trying to process how it was possible that the scar that, to Blaine, was a painful reminder of his own failure to protect Nicky, to Nicky himself was no more than a battle scar, the proof he was tough and strong and could survive anything. Finally, Blaine seemed to regain his composure, and he slowly nodded.

"Sure," he said, his smile not exactly forced, but still a tad too wide to be really genuine, "we can go for ice cream. Can Kurt come along?"

Nicky looked in the direction Blaine was pointing, only now becoming aware of the fact that there was someone else there with them as well. He let his eyes flicker between Blaine and Kurt before finally settling on Blaine.

"Is he your boyfriend?"

Never before or after Kurt ever wished so hard he'd had a camera on him, because the proud smile that appeared on Blaine's face was without doubt one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen.

"Yes," Blaine said, glancing at Kurt, "yes, he is."

Immediately, Nicky leant forward, whispering something in Blaine's ear which caused Blaine to giggle and nod.

"He absolutely is," he said, the look he sent Kurt once more leaving no doubt who he was talking about. "Now, ice cream?"

"Yes!"

Nicky bounced up and down and Blaine scooped him up, laughing as he threw him over his shoulder and spun him around.

_He would be an amazing dad_.

The thought suddenly flashed through Kurt's mind, catching him off-guard, and he mentally berated himself. They were together for less than twenty four hours, and he was thinking about Blaine's parental abilities? Talk about getting ahead of yourself!

Still... he was allowed to dream, wasn't he? He was allowed to fantasize, to make up crazy scenario's of perfect weddings, to build air castles and loose himself in silly daydreams, because that's what you did when you were sixteen and in love. You dreamt, and you hoped, and you imagined, and whether or not those dreams would become a reality one day was completely irrelevant simply because right there, and right then, they were real enough in your head.

Kurt was pulled away from his fantasies when Blaine was suddenly standing in front of him and Santana, putting Nicky down.

"Shall we go?"

Kurt nodded, almost surprised to find Blaine took his hand again as they turned around to leave the park, Santana and Nicky walking a little bit ahead of them.

"So, what was it that Nicky told you when he was whispering so secretively in your ear?" Kurt asked curiously.

"You really want to know?" Blaine teased, and Kurt was still drying to decide whether to huff indignantly or to just let go of Blaine's hand when he felt an arm

wrap around the small of his back, and Blaine pulled him closer.

"According to Nicky," Blaine whispered, "you are way prettier than Aladdin."

Kurt felt his stomach jolt at the sudden closeness, smiling coyly as he looked at Blaine.

"And who are you in this fairy tale?" he asked. "Princess Jasmine?"

"Oh no," Blaine replied, a grin spreading over his face. "I'm the Genie."

* * *

><p><strong>... and there you go, the final chapter! Happy New Year, everyone! I'm truly sorry it had to take so long, but it was horrible in my head, and it took me some time to come to terms with it. Do forgive me for the cheesiness of the ending, I needed some fluff after all the angst of my other story. It's called "The Danger Inside Of You" (why yes, I am promoting myself shamelessly!) and is something completely different from what I've written here. If you like angst, do check it out! Read the warnings before, though, if you please, I don't want to get into trouble.<strong>

**In anticipation of questions - no, I will most likely not continue in this 'verse. This was, as I've said before, always a getting-together story, and now that they've found each other (both Kurt and Blaine and Blaine and Nicky) I don't see enough story lines I can use to justify a continuation of it. I will not stop writing though! If you want to stay posted on what I'm up to, follow me here, on LiveJournal (aworldoflis), or on my very random Tumblr (also at aworldoflis) - I am shy and quiet and I don't bite, although I do purr when content :).**

**But lastly and most importantly: thank you. I know it gets cheesy when you read a lot of fanfic but if you write yourself you will know the gratitude towards your readership is never taken for granted. So thank you. Thank you for reading, for alerting, for reviewing, for sticking with me, for checking back to see if there's an update yet - the statistics have given my ego a boost I didn't even know it needed. I would thank each and every one personally, but there's a tad too many for that, so I'll just repeat it here again: thank you, and see you around!**

**ETA: I've changed my Tumblr url to letmegiveyoumynumbah, so maybe I'll see you there!**


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